Disclaimer: Demon Slayer is not mine. This fanfic is a translation.
Enjoy Reading!
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Tanjuro didn't notice the silence around him, still processing what he saw in that white space.
"Fushigiri…"
Tanjuro propped himself up on the tiles with his arms, straightening his upper body. His dazed eyes gradually cleared as he muttered.
"I drew it."
In his illusion, the instant he drew the Fushigiri from the Divine Dragon's eyesocket, a sudden gust of wind had swept him out of the place.
The last image he saw was the Divine Dragon rearing its head, roaring wildly in all directions.
Which led to the spectacle of his resurrection witnessed by everybody.
Hiss.
The sound forces Tanjuro to come back to his senses as crimson energy coiled around his body, transforming into wisps of blood mist that rose and dissipated.
The red mist coalesced in midair.
Tanjuro instinctively looked up toward it.
The price of drawing the Fushigiri was the wielder's life.
Therefore, only the immortal "Dragon's Heir" could draw the blade and wield it after a "resurrection."
Crimson energy twisted together like clusters of red spider lilies, so dense it seemed almost tangible.
Then, the hilt of an ancient sword slowly descended from the thick, crimson energy, which seemed to lead to another world.
The weathered tsuba and the pitted and rust-stained blade of the katana materialized bit by bit as it descended.
The immortal severance blade, Fushigiri, or as known by its true name, Hairui.
The Gracious Tears.
Hovering in the air, its blade shrouded in swirling red mist, stopped before Tanjuro as he sat up.
Tanjuro gazed at the Odachi sword before him.
A sword that could serve as a substitute for the Crimson-Hot Blade.
He slowly reached out and firmly gripped the yellowed hilt.
Found it.
Tanjuro's weakened aura gradually recovered as the power of resurrection surged within him. His gaze was resolute.
"It is over," he said.
...
"…Cherry blossoms? Kanji?"
Tengen was both startled and wary. He crouched on the other side of the roof ridge.
The moment Tanjuro "woke up," he had instinctively retreated to a hiding spot.
He cautiously peeked out, revealing only his eyes, and stared in surprise toward Tanjuro's position.
"A Demon Art? No... is this some sort of Ashina-style ninjutsu… used to turn the tables on an enemy?"
He muttered to himself.
He saw Tanjuro's complexion return to a healthy flush as he gripped the Fushigiri once more.
A flood of information and thoughts raced through his mind, leaving him stunned by the conclusion it reached.
"He came back to life?!" Tengen's expression was one of utter disbelief. His brow furrowed deeply as he tried to keep his voice low.
He stared at Tanjuro in shock.
As a shinobi, Tengen could forcibly stop his own heart by tensing his muscles.
Inducing a death-like state.
But.
He thought back to a moment ago.
Tanjuro had suddenly reverted to how he looked when they first met.
That frail, emaciated appearance, skin stretched taut over bone, so terribly weak.
It was far from a simple false death!
His eyes trembling slightly, Tengen lay on the other side of the roof ridge, thoughts racing through his mind.
He muttered darkly.
"Ashina style…"
...
"Eh?"
Doma's mouth hung slightly open as he stared blankly in Tanjuro's direction. He was at a loss for words.
For nearly three full seconds, he couldn't utter a single cheerful remark like before.
The corners of his lifted mouth seemed to stiffen.
He finally managed a smile, tilting his head as if to ease the awkwardness, and chuckled softly.
"No way."
He quickly lowered the fan in his hand, propping himself up with it as he leaned forward eagerly to get a better look at Tanjuro.
"Resurrection? Now that's something I've never heard of…"
As a demon, Doma's perception of whether a creature's heart was still beating or its breathing had ceased was incredibly acute.
'This human...'
His colorful eyes reflected the sight of Tanjuro slowly rising, gripping a katana that had appeared out of thin air.
'He was definitely dead.'
His heart stopped, breathing was gone, and complexion was sallow.
It was the withered feeling of all life force having dissipated, as if he'd been dead for over a year.
Resurrection from death.
It was something not even demons could do.
"I think I'm beginning to understand Muzan-sama's interest…"
Doma sighed softly.
At the very center of the ice Buddha encirclement.
Michikatsu gave a calm glance toward Tanjuro's position.
"Hmph."
He looked away, showing no sign of surprise.
He raised his eyes to Doma's exaggerated, feigned astonishment.
Then his gaze shifted to Hakuji's hesitant expression.
A flicker of pride stirred within him, unbeknownst even to himself.
'That's right.'
Tanjuro was the successor his younger brother had envisioned centuries ago.
How could he possibly doubt the man would easily die?
This was his brother's prediction, Michikatsu's brother.
The genius named Tsugikuni Yoriichi.
The unparalleled genius.
He added inwardly, then nodded with satisfaction.
Doma's muttered soliloquy took a sudden turn. He wore a helpless expression.
"But why did he have to get back up again?"
He murmured, his gaze fixed intently on Tanjuro's back from afar.
"Since he was already dead, wouldn't it have been better to just stay dead?"
He sighed as if exasperated.
"I truly cannot understand."
Doma turned his head and smiled at the figure behind him.
"Don't you agree, young lady?"
It was Shinobu who had just landed from midair.
Her toes lightly touched the ice Buddha's shoulder.
"Tch!"
Shinobu's brow was furrowed tightly. Her haori shimmered faintly as she gripped her slender blade. She was hoping to land the killing blow in this confusion.
"Die!"
She twisted the blade in her hand and thrust it swiftly toward Doma.
"A thrust?" Doma simply tilted his neck with a smile, easily evading Shinobu's attack.
Clang!
He casually deflected her Nichirin blade with his golden fan. A chilling mist began to emanate around him as he reminded her.
"Thrusts won't kill a demon, you know. You have to cut the neck."
Whoosh!
A white blur suddenly appeared behind Doma!
"Stuff like that!"
Sanemi's lips curled into a vicious snarl. His arms were locked around the hilt of his blade, the sword held back behind him, his eyes aimed squarely at Doma's neck.
"Is elementary! You bastard!"
He twisted his body sharply using his waist, the blade raised high behind him, slicing through the air.
It swung horizontally, straight for Doma's neck.
For these two.
Everything was for the sake of slaying the demon before them.
Even if their comrades fell, they had to seize this opportunity.
Sanemi's gaze grew even fiercer.
'So that his death wouldn't be in vain!'
Doma tilted his head slightly.
He perceived that during the interval he had been distracted, and with five ice Buddhas mostly occupied by Hakuji, these demon slayers had recklessly closed in on him.
His eyes lingered on Sanemi's frost-covered calves.
Doma shook his head regretfully. "Admirable courage."
Hiss—!
A torrent of freezing air erupted from the mouth of the ice Buddha beneath him!
The lung-searing cold surged directly toward Sanemi, who was suspended in midair.
"Damn it!"
Sanemi's eyes widened. He was frozen in midair, unable to shift his body.
A familiar feeling washed over him.
He stared at the approaching white mist. He realizes that this would be his end.
'Right...'
Sanemi thought.
The first time he had met Tanjuro, he had been at a disadvantage because he was airborne and couldn't dodge.
He gritted his teeth, frustrated by his own helplessness.
Wasn't he just going in circles!?
Whoosh!
Another blur shot across the sky.
It collided with Sanemi in midair.
It was Tanjuro.
He landed on the other end of the ice Buddha, carrying Sanemi's body as he gently set him down.
The Kusabimaru was already sheathed; in his hand now was the dark crimson Fushigiri, its length longer than his other sword.
"Hiss—"
White mist seeped from the corners of his mouth. It was hard to tell if it was due to the cold environment or the warmth of his breath.
"What…" Sanemi froze for a moment. Coming to his senses, he looked up at Tanjuro, who had set him down.
He was confused but said nothing.
Tanjuro's gaze had been fixed on Doma the entire time.
He tightened his grip on the Fushigiri, a familiar feeling surging within him.
With a practiced motion.
Tanjuro effortlessly swung the katana back behind him with one hand, his left hand gently supporting the blade in a wiping gesture.
Shinobu had leaped back the moment Sanemi launched his surprise attack.
Now standing a short distance away, she was using her scabbard to adjust a new concentration of poison.
"My, my."
Doma had just turned back when he heard several soft landings beside him.
He smiled and looked around him.
Tanjuro gripped the hilt of the red katana with one hand, the blade resting on his shoulder, the other hand seemingly preparing for something.
Hakuji landed on the ice Buddha's other shoulder, covered in frost, yet staring at Doma with eager, excited eyes.
Michikatsu stood on an ice lotus not far away, watching him with a serious expression.
"This is troublesome."
Doma's gaze swept over them, quickly analyzing the situation.
An immortal human, a former Upper Moon One, and a madman.
Soon, he reached his conclusion.
He couldn't win.
A smile touched his lips. Doma spread his hands and cautiously addressed the one human and two demons.
"Well… Tanjuro-san, Kokushibo-dono."
He opened his colorful eyes, which were filled with innocence and ease. "Perhaps we could have a little chat first."
Doma turned his head, seeing the blade in Tanjuro's hand beginning to glow crimson. He quickly changed his tune.
"Would it be okay if I defected as well?"
Such a question put nearly everyone on the ice Buddha wore an expression ranging from slight to utter disbelief.
...
-Location: The Kamado residence
The previously snow-covered cabin appeared to be maintained daily. Even on this night, long after the start of summer, it still looked as clean and fresh as if someone lived there.
Footsteps were heard approaching the residence.
"Strange. No one lives here?"
A Kakushi in a black uniform, wearing wooden-framed glasses, wiped sweat from his brow. He stood behind the cabin.
After circling the cabin to confirm it was empty, he muttered in confusion.
"The grass around the house even looks tended to."
He looked toward another small hilltop in the distance.
As a special Kakushi tasked with scouting and discovering new medicinal herbs, he frequently traveled throughout Japan.
Having never been in this area before, he had gotten lost in the evening without realizing it.
Seeing a cabin on the mountaintop, he had thought to ask for a place to stay, but no one was present.
However.
He couldn't worry about that now.
His attention was completely captivated by something new.
The Kakushi's dark eyes reflected the sight of the small hill in the distance.
An unmistakable patch of blue-green.
He could clearly see it.
A cluster of flower buds.
A species he had never seen before!
"Ah! Excellent, that's definitely a new discovery!"
His excitement was evident.
Forgetting his earlier desire to rest, he casually wiped away his sweat and eagerly trotted toward the flower buds.
"..."
Creak.
On the wooden box he brought.
A withered eyeball slowly inflated like a balloon until it was round and full.
It was a Blood Demon Art belonging to Nakime.
Muzan's order to her was to track down every Demon Slayer Corps member and attach these eyes to them.
To prevent Muzan from ever encountering any demon slayers himself.
The eye paused for a moment, like a person waking up from sleep.
After orienting itself, its crimson gaze darted left and right, quickly assessing its surroundings.
The moment its gaze sees the cabin behind the Kakushi.
It immediately shuddered in fear.