Disclaimer: Demon Slayer is not mine. This fanfic is a translation.
Enjoy Reading!
---
"So bright."
Before him was an expanse of light.
A warm and peaceful sensation emanated from ahead, subtly guiding Gyutaro forward.
"Is this hell...?"
"...What's going on?"
Gyutaro frowned deeply, looking down in confusion at the old, worn human clothes he wore, a sense of unease settling in his heart.
Could hell really feel this warm and bright?
Then.
Pat.
"...Onii-chan?" Ume's voice came from behind him.
Hearing his sister's voice, Gyutaro startled. He instinctively turned his head, his expression joyful as he looked back.
"Ume—"
But then, after seeing his sister's appearance clearly, Gyutaro's voice fell silent. He froze for a moment.
Behind him.
There stood Ume, the number [Moon] [Three] still engraved in her eyes, the sashes of her outfit fluttering—unmistakably in the form of a demon.
'Why... was Ume still a demon...?'
'I've turned into a human...'
His gaze slowly shifted to what lay behind Ume, a path leading to a sea of blazing, roaring flames.
Suddenly, a possibility occurred to him, and his pupils constricted sharply.
After trembling for a moment, his eyes wide with disbelief, Gyutaro took a deep breath.
He lifted his head and shouted angrily at the sky.
"You bastard!"
Inside, curses surged uncontrollably.
'Damn it!'
Gyutaro's brows twitched with rage. He clenched his fists so tightly his palms turned white, fury boiling in his heart. He wanted to curse but couldn't find the words, choking on his anger.
"Tch!"
'How come I never even learned that guy's name before I died!?'
'You lying bastard!!'
Gyutaro ground his teeth in fury, glaring fiercely at the sky, trying to kill with his gaze the man who had made him atone before his death.
He said it would count as early atonement!
But in the end. Only He ended up unpunished!
Ume, standing not far away, wasn't surprised by her own appearance. In fact, this was her choice.
"It's okay, Onii-chan..." Ume started to speak, but widened her eyes as—
"Don't move from there!"
Slap!
Gyutaro clenched his jaw, forcing his legs to move, sprinting over and grabbing hold of Ume's arm.
Then.
Whoosh.
The demonic scars, following Ume's arm, gradually spread onto Gyutaro's body.
Gyutaro's expression didn't change. He just stared intently at his own body as it began to hunch, drawing the sin of [Demon] into himself.
Until finally, he was completely covered.
Ume was stunned. She had tried before; she couldn't cross the invisible barrier of air in front of her to reach where her brother stood.
But Gyutaro had crossed it effortlessly.
Soon.
The two demons, Daki and Gyutaro, stood in the pitch-black space, their two pairs of [Moon] [three] eyes gazing at each other.
The siblings said nothing, simply looking at one another in silence. Then, together, they turned their heads to look at the sea of fire behind them.
The crackling flames illuminated both their faces.
"Let's go."
"Yeah."
"Brother, if we finish atoning and get a chance to be reborn, what kind of person do you want to be?"
Ume walked through the flames. She, who had once been terrified of fire, now only dared to walk with her head held high.
"Or, do you want to stay a demon?"
"No." Her brother's hoarse voice answered, mixing with the crackling of the flames.
"I'm going to be a shogunate official."
"Eh—the Shogunate? Why?" His sister turned her head in surprise, her voice laced with shock. "...Isn't that a bit too extreme?"
Gyutaro's eyes reflected the flickering, deceptive flames. He clenched his fist, raised it, and gritted his teeth as he scratched at his burning face.
"I'm going... to arrest every single liar in the world!"
He spoke with venom.
"And kill them all!"
Hearing this, Ume smiled wryly.
The siblings' figures walked further and further away into the endless flames.
...
In the living world.
Whoosh—!
A gust of wind swept through the street, lifting two layers of circular ash from the ground and scattering it everywhere.
The once brilliantly lit red-light district was now plunged into darkness. Not a single pedestrian could be seen on the devastated streets.
Tengen crouched on a rooftop, his right hand gripping the hilt of the blade behind his back, alertly watching his surroundings.
They were waiting for the arrival of the Kakushi and other support to clean up the aftermath.
An Upper Moon had died, and their battle had been quite spectacular. Practically everyone passing through the red-light district had seen the sky filled with crimson blood demon art earlier.
This would probably cause quite a bit of trouble for Oyakata-sama.
After all, the Demon Slayer Corps was an unofficial shadow organization.
Tengen thought this as his gaze secretly shifted towards Tanjuro on the street below.
In his mind, the various ninjutsu techniques he had just witnessed still lingered.
His face was tense, but his body trembled uncontrollably, the jeweled ornaments on his head shaking along.
'Fabulous!'
'So incredibly fabulous!
Tengen lowered his head slightly, regulating his breathing.
When he looked up again, his eyes were filled with unwavering determination.
'I want to learn.'
...
On the street.
Scratch, scratch...
Giyu was recording the information Gyutaro had just provided in his mission report. Seeming to think of something, he suddenly looked up.
In his hand, he held a charred piece of wood, picked up from the ground earlier as a substitute for a pen.
He hesitated, glancing towards Tanjuro, who was sitting on a large piece of rubble nearby, resting with his eyes closed.
After a moment of hesitation.
"Kamado-san." Giyu Tomioka voiced his question:
"What you said to the demon earlier, was it true?"
"About hell."
Tanjuro slowly opened his eyes. He had just been processing the resurrection power and combat memories gained from Gyutaro.
The resurrection power, numbered in six orbs—twice that of Hantengu, who was also Upper Moon Three.
The excess resurrection energy transformed into a genuine physical foundation, repairing the weakness within his body.
The paper dolls numbered 22, equal to the number of Hashira who had died at the hands of Gyutaro and Daki.
He focused on the most important of the combat memories: Tsukiguni Yoriichi.
All combat memories could be re-experienced and refined in the mind through Wolf's powerful learning ability.
Tanjuro hadn't done this with the combat memories from previous Upper Moon fights—because it wasn't necessary and would be a waste of time.
But this time was different.
Once he returned to the Butterfly Mansion, Tanjuro planned to quietly immerse himself in this memory and temper himself.
He speculated that...
Perhaps it was because he had, for the first time, fully executed all the forms of sun breathing, which had awakened this memory buried deep within his bloodline.
After organizing his thoughts, he turned to Giyu and answered the kid's question.
"It's true."
"Then—" Hearing the confirmation, Giyu quickly pressed further, though his expression remained unchanged.
Even Tengen, who had been alertly watching their surroundings, found his attention drawn over.
He had never seen Giyu speak so much before.
"When humans die, do they also go to hell to atone?"
Tengen also quietly edged closer.
Tanjuro glanced sideways at Giyu, whose expressionless face betrayed none of his inner emotions. He thought for a moment.
"If they haven't done anything heinous, they probably get reincarnated."
"Of course." His voice was gentle. Feeling relieved that there had been no casualties from the Upper Moon battle, he added.
"If they die with strong regrets, they might even linger for a while beside their friends and family."
Within the world of Demon Slayer, the concepts of hell and souls do exist.
In fact, the souls of the deceased could, to some extent, influence the living in the physical world.
Tanjuro briefly recalled the scene from the original story where Sabito instructed Tanjiro and how they were able to spar.
The range of possibilities here was quite broad.
After Tanjuro finished speaking.
Tengen and Giyu both fell silent.
Neither doubted Tanjuro's words.
Both of them had glimpsed the figures of deceased relatives or companions appearing beside them to some extent.
The former lowered his head, looking at his bandaged left hand, deep in thought. His own past deeds were surely enough to send him to hell.
The latter simply stared quietly at the sky, wearing an expression of wistful longing.
Tanjuro looked at the two silent men and felt a fleeting urge to retract his earlier thought.
The Demon Slayer Corps wasn't just a group of sincere children.
They were also a bunch of troubled and emo kids, albeit with good reason.
The three of them lapsed into silence.
When suddenly—
Crick.
A faint sound of ice scraping against roof tiles came from the side.
A demon.
Almost instinctively, Tanjuro glanced toward the source of the sound.
Both Tengen and Tanjuro noticed the thing on the nearby rooftop at almost the same time.
"I found something interesting."
"How nice."
Dimly, something seemed to be swaying slightly.
They were two male-looking ice doll figures, about fifty centimeters tall.
In the pitch-black night, the clear ice sculptures refracted the faint moonlight, blending into the darkness. They were nearly impossible to spot without looking closely.
The ice doll figures held fans in their hands and had just been peering over the edge of the eaves, secretly watching this way.
Their faces bore eerie smiles, their transparent ice eyes staring directly this way with almost no attempt at concealment.
Sensing the heavy, bloody aura emanating from the air, Tanjuro glanced sideways.
—It was Doma.
Former Upper Moon Two, Doma.
One could say he was the polar opposite of the former Upper Moon One, Kokushibo.
Kokushibo had always adhered to honing his swordsmanship, never using his blood demon arts.
Doma, on the other hand, focused almost entirely on developing his Blood Demon Art, and most of his techniques were specifically designed to counter breathing styles.
According to the information Gyutaro provided, Doma was now Upper Moon One.
Within the perception of Transparent World, Doma's location couldn't be detected.
Which means his true body wasn't here.
Those two ice dolls were just a blood demon art used for remote observation.
Thud!
A figure shot out from beside Tanjuro.
Tengen, who had already noticed the ice dolls, stepped forward and in an instant reached the rooftop where they were.
Shink! Shink!
The curved blade in his hand flashed twice, and the heads of the ice doll children tumbled off.
Bang!
They crashed to the ground, shattering into a pile of ice shards.
Feeling the effortless smoothness of the cut, Tengen's heart immediately tensed.
"...A trap?"
Tengen held his blade in one hand, scanning his surroundings with a deep frown. Even with his still-unrefined transparent world fully active, he couldn't detect any movement anywhere.
The presence he had sensed earlier.
This demon was definitely an Upper Moon.
And ranked above Gyutaro.
His gaze slowly shifted to the shattered ice on the street below, suspicion rising in his mind.
Among the scattered ice fragments, a single broken ice eye reflected Tengen's image.
Whoosh—!
A cold wind brushed against the back of Tengen's neck.
Startled, he whipped his head around but saw nothing.
His ears twitched slightly. Blessed with exceptional hearing, he faintly caught a whisper.
"You're a ninja too...?"
Ignoring the pain, Tengen gripped his second blade, drawing it from behind his back as he remained alert.
What do these mean!?
He waited for a long time.
But nothing happened.
---
-Location: Eternal Paradise Faith Secret Building-
Somewhere in a dimly lit room.
Ornate decorations hung from the ceiling.
Doma sat on a cushion inside a curtained enclosure in the center of the room. Smiling, he covered part of his face with his fan. The ninja's forehead protector wrapped around his arm reflected the faint light.
"How interesting."
As a demon, Doma could discern human lineage at a glance.
Looking at Tengen's appearance, he murmured to himself:
"Brothers...?"
Douma sat on his cushion within the Paradise Faith Cult's sanctuary, but the reflection in his rainbow-hued eyes was the architecture of the Yoshiwara red-light district.
"Oh..."
Through the eye of the broken ice doll, he watched Tanjuro calmly approaching and spoke with a smile, talking to himself.
"My, my, you must definitely be the one Muzan keeps mentioning."
His gaze focused on the hanafuda earrings dangling from Tanjuro's ears. "The swordsman with the mark and the hanafuda earrings..."
The next moment.
The glowing red blade of a Nichirin sword descended.
Pointing directly at his icy eye.
"Hm?" Doma tilted his head, his signature smile on his face, a questioning sound escaping him.
Then.
Sssss—!
"Ow! That hurts!!"
Outside the door.
Several loyal followers, hearing their leader's cry of pain, exchanged bewildered glances.
---
Back to Yoshiwara.
Tanjuro looked at the ice sculpture evaporating under the heat of his red-hot blade.
He raised Kusabimaru, his gaze sharpening as he observed the spot where the blade, having lost its intense heat after contact with the ice, had turned back to black.
Tengen jumped down from the rooftop. He was about to say something when—
"...Someone, please!"
Weak, gasping breaths, crying for help, came from all around them.
"Save me...!"
"This can't be..." Omitsu was carrying the unconscious Tamako on her back and holding another girl in her arms as she wore an expression of sheer terror, looking at the devastated district.
A moment ago, the street behind her had suddenly collapsed, revealing a huge, deep pit.
In that pit, she had found nearly ten girls who had gone missing before.
And many others she didn't recognize, all at the bottom of the deep hole.
'Had that witch done all this by herself?'
The madam's face showed the despair of someone facing death. Only now did she realize just how suicidal it had been to pick up that revolver.
As her vision blurred and darkness crept in at the edges.
Whoosh!
Several black-clad figures swiftly passed her, stirring a faint breeze.
The madam froze, turning her head dazedly to look back.
Several men in black, carrying wooden boxes on their backs, were sprinting toward the bottom of the pit.
Using their downward momentum, they swung the boxes off their backs, laid them flat on the ground, and quickly arranged them. The boxes were filled with emergency medical supplies.
"Hurry! There are the injured here!"
"Coming!"
"Give me a bottle of hemostatic powder!"
"Two of you, over here! He's not breathing!"
"Okay, one, two, three!"
They coordinated succinctly and moved swiftly.
Shuff—!
A cloud of dust rose as one of the black-clad men suddenly stood before the madam.
"Ma'am."
Goto spoke softly, comforting the pale-faced madam.
"Please don't worry."
"It's going to be alright now."