Inside the Mugen Train, Chika and the others sat quietly in their seats, waiting.
There was nothing else they could do—until the demon made a move, they had no way to pinpoint its position.
Even Tanjiro's nose was useless here.
Chika propped her chin on her hand, gazing out the window at the ever-changing scenery flashing past, feeling a strange sense of calm.
"Tanjiro, Nezuko," she murmured, eyes softening at the streaking landscape, "when all this is over, let's take a family trip together."
"Mm! Mm!"
Nezuko raised her arms in excitement, nodding rapidly in agreement.
But Chika waited a moment longer—
and realized Tanjiro hadn't answered.
She blinked, turned her head—
and froze.
Tanjiro and the others were slumped against one another, fast asleep.
"…What?"
That shouldn't be possible.
In the original story, the Lower Moon One—Enmu—used train tickets tainted with his blood as a medium, plunging everyone who touched them into deep sleep.
But they never bought tickets.
They'd snuck aboard.
They hadn't touched any tickets at all!
Then how—?
Was this the "correction of fate"?
Or had Enmu prepared another method entirely?
Chika's thoughts raced as she turned to look at Rengoku on the other side.
Thankfully, he wasn't fully asleep yet—just drowsy.
She sighed in relief, then placed both hands on his shoulders and shook him hard.
"Rengoku! Rengoku! Don't sleep—it's a demon's Blood Demon Art!"
His eyes snapped open, the fire in them blazing to life.
"Wha—? Demon?! Where?!"
He spun in place, scanning the entire car, hands already on the hilt of his Nichirin Blade, ready to strike at a moment's notice.
But when he found no trace of any enemy, his confused gaze landed on Chika and Nezuko, both staring at him with flat, deadpan eyes.
"For the record," Chika said dryly, raising one finger, "I never said the demon was here."
Rengoku followed the direction she pointed—toward the sleeping Tanjiro and the others—and instantly understood.
He sat back down, scratching his cheek awkwardly.
"To think I almost succumbed to a Blood Demon Art that induces sleep… what a disgrace. Truly shameful."
Blood Demon Art—
a unique ability possessed by higher-ranking demons, the stronger the demon, the more fearsome the technique.
For one to affect even a Hashira… there was no doubt this was the work of one of the Twelve Kizuki.
He couldn't help but notice, though—why hadn't Chika fallen under it?
Nezuko, sure—she was a demon. But Chika…?
He decided to ask later.
After all, with Nezuko's example—a demon who resisted sunlight and thirst—Rengoku had learned to accept surprises calmly.
Even if Chika told him she was a demon herself, he'd probably just nod and move on.
She was an ally. That was all that mattered.
The enemy lurks in the shadows. We stand in the light.
It wouldn't be easy.
But Chika knew how this story went.
Enmu planned to fuse himself with the entire train, devouring every soul aboard.
When he finally exposed his neck, confident of victory, that would be the moment he lost—
and whether by her blade or Rengoku's, his end would be swift.
But first things first—
Chika turned toward the three peacefully snoring boys and smiled faintly, stepping closer.
Inside Tanjiro's Dream
Tanjiro trudged through thick snow, shoulders hunched against a fierce blizzard.
The world was white—endless.
He blinked, disoriented, and instinctively drew his Nichirin Blade, scanning the surroundings.
"What… what's going on? Where am I?!"
His breath came in rapid puffs.
He turned—
"Big Brother!"
"Welcome home! Did you sell all the charcoal?"
Tanjiro's eyes widened.
Before him stood a boy and a girl—his younger siblings, Takeo and Hanako.
The sword slipped from his hand, plunging into the snow.
He didn't even think.
He ran forward and gathered them both into his arms, collapsing with them into the drifts.
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"
Tears spilled down his face as he clung to them.
His Demon Slayer uniform had vanished, replaced by the plain clothes of a charcoal seller.
He followed them home—
to his mother, Kie Kamado,
and his siblings, Takeo, Shigeru, Rokuta, Nezuko… and his sister, Chika Kamado.
"Mom! Mom! Big Brother suddenly cried and tackled us! He scared us!"
"My, how strange~"
Kie looked worriedly at him. "You must be tired, Tanjiro. Are you all right?"
Tanjiro smiled softly. "I'm fine. I'm used to it."
At that moment, he'd completely forgotten reality.
He didn't just believe this peace was real—he lived it.
Everything felt natural. Warm. Whole.
He turned to look at his sister Chika—
and saw her smiling at him.
Yes… this is home. Maybe I just had a nightmare before…
But before he could finish the thought—
the smile on Chika's face hardened.
She stepped forward.
Once. Twice.
Then SMACK!
The sound echoed through the snow.
Tanjiro froze.
Everyone else did too.
He held a hand to his stinging cheek, staring wide-eyed at her.
Her clothes had changed—
no longer a simple kimono, but the uniform of the Demon Slayer Corps.
And he realized his own had changed as well—his sword once again at his waist.
"Wake up," she said firmly. "This isn't real.
You're not the kind of man who hides inside a lie, Tanjiro Kamado."
For an instant, the light in Tanjiro's eyes flared—
and the illusion shattered.
Back in reality, his body jerked.
A bright red handprint burned on his cheek,
while beside him, Chika shook her own stinging hand, grimacing.
Spiritual hypnosis, huh?
Sometimes the best counter… was physical damage.
Good thing they hadn't been trapped for too long.
If the dream had gone deeper, even a slap wouldn't have been enough.
Tanjiro's brows furrowed, relaxed, then furrowed again—until the false world collapsed entirely.
With a gasp, he jolted awake, breathing hard.
He glanced around—
and saw Zenitsu and Inosuke beside him, both sporting fresh red handprints on their faces.
Tanjiro exhaled softly.
Somehow… I feel grounded again.