Chapter Text
A tall, dark-haired girl in a two-toned haori, loose pleated pants, and the dark uniform of a Demon Slayer hurried toward a mission that her old crow had—somehow—finally managed to relay to her. He was always forgetting to deliver them, so she had to ask him herself. In response, the crow would start speaking painfully slowly and stuttering, which annoyed her to no end—after all, people's lives were at stake. Yet she could never stay angry for long; with just a sigh, she would prepare to depart.
As always, on her way she encountered only the weakest of demons. A couple of swings of her katana were enough to behead them. In place of the remains, ash appeared at once, quickly beginning to dissolve and vanish into the air. After pausing for a moment, the girl moved on.
After a four-hour journey, the dark-haired girl finally reached her destination and began scanning the area for the village said to lie at the foot of the mountain. That was where, according to scout-crow reports, the silhouette of a man-eating demon had last been seen. The search area was vast, but the monster had to be eliminated as quickly as possible.
With about an hour left until dawn, the huntress decided to head for a river flowing a couple hundred meters from the village's suspected location. She would scout the area — inspecting both the forest and the riverbank.
The dark-haired girl had been running across the snow-covered terrain for about fifteen minutes. Her legs kept sinking into the white blanket, which was not only inconvenient but also drained her stamina much faster.
”Snow...” she murmured, gazing at the sky with her vacant blue eye.
𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨.𝘐𝘵'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴...
The dawn was invisible, hidden behind a sky choked with thick snow clouds that blocked all light. The girl finally reached the village, where the civilians had already begun their daily routines. Anxious, she ran up to an old man sitting on a bench and began questioning him:
”Hello, excuse me. Have you seen anything strange?”
The girl rattled off the question in a single breath. The old man offered no reply. She was ready to dash off and search for answers elsewhere when the old man, his words slow and labored, finally muttered:
”Go to the foot of the mountain... A man lives there alone. Ask him.”
The old man spoke the words so softly that only she could hear them. The girl glanced back at him, gave a quick nod of thanks, and took off running as fast as her legs could carry her. She was deeply grateful for the lead.
The blue-eyed huntress pushed herself to the limit. Every second counted; more innocent lives were on the line. At last, a lone house came into view at the foot of the mountain. She slammed her fist against the shoji. A man's face appeared in the opening. Before she could utter a single word, he spoke, his voice urgent and cutting.
”Go! Now! I saved one boy, but the others up there... I don't know their fate!”
Without letting her utter a single word, the stranger slammed the shoji shut right in front of her face. Hearing this, the girl sprinted up the mountain with all her might. A dark premonition clutched at the dark-haired girl's heart — she knew something terrible had happened. Her heart was pounding wildly in her chest, and the snow fell incessantly from the cloud-covered sky in thick flakes, only heightening the sense of dread.
As she covered the final steps, she saw the house. Its shoji screens were shattered.
And there, almost on the very threshold, a huge, brown-red stain of blood stood out luridly against the whiteness of the snow.
𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦...
As she ran closer, she saw the already cold body of a small boy in the doorway. And when her gaze darted into the depths of the house, it was riveted by a horrific sight: the entire family that had lived there was dead. Her eyes jumped frantically from the woman to the children lying motionless beside her.
The girl's gaze became as empty as a dried-up well. Not a single muscle moved on her face — she had witnessed so much death that she could not squeeze out even a meager tear. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Realizing she was too late once again, the girl charged down the steep mountainside to catch up with the demon. But a completely different scene unfolded before her. A boy lay in the snow, and above him loomed a girl who began to grow rapidly in size. Realizing this girl was a demon, the huntress, without a second thought, drew her katana and struck. But suddenly, the boy lunged forward, grabbing the demon by the neck and shielding it with his own body. The girl managed to react in time: the trajectory of her blade shifted, only shearing off the boy's long hair. She froze in astonishment. She never expected anyone would dare such a desperate act to protect a demon.
Landing by a tree, Blue-Eye turned to face the boy and the girl lying helplessly in his embrace. The demon had shrunk back to normal size, and now, as her brother knelt with her in the snow, she only twitched and jerked in his strong arms, trying to break free.
”Why are you protecting it?..” The dark-haired girl's voice was calm and lifeless.
”She is my sister!” The boy's voice broke into a scream, brimming with terror and fury.
”And you call 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 a sister?” Her tone didn't waver in the slightest. There was no trace of understanding in it, only a cold statement of fact.
Blue-Eye tilted her head — and in the very next instant, she dashed toward the children. The boy instinctively leaned forward, trying to shield his sister with his body. But she simply vanished. Disappeared from his trembling, helpless hands.
His gaze swept the empty space around him — and there she was. Standing opposite him, like an icy mountain, was that strange girl in uniform. In one hand she clutched her katana, and in the other, like a trophy, she held his precious sister.
The boy’s breath caught in his throat from fear for his sister. A wave of icy horror and utter helplessness washed over him. Rising to his knees, he cried out her name, his voice breaking into a desperate scream:
”Nezuko!!”
Standing right in front of him, her icy gaze fixed on him, the girl spoke evenly and quietly:
”Don’t move.” She sighed, as if weary of having to explain the obvious.
”Slaying demons is my job. Do you think I need to spell out what I’m about to do to your sister?”
”Wait! Nezuko hasn’t killed anyone! Near the house, I smelled a strange scent! A completely unfamiliar one!”
The boy was almost shouting, desperately laying out his arguments.
”Maybe that’s the smell of the one who killed my family! It wasn’t her!” He paused, trying to control the tremor in his voice.
”I don’t know why she turned into this... but... but she’s not to blame! Believe me!”
The girl listened in silence. She felt pity for this boy. Pity because he believed in the impossible — believed that a monster could still be a sister.
”It’s simple. She turned into a demon because another demon’s blood got into her wounds. That’s exactly how new man-eaters are born.”
But the boy stubbornly shook his head.
”Nezuko has never eaten people!”
”You must be joking. She was just about to eat you.”
”No! You’re wrong! I’m sure she recognizes me! I won’t let you hurt her!” His voice grew stronger, filled with a resolve beyond his years.
”I will restore her human form! I swear it to you! Believe me… Please!”
The dark-haired huntress listened without a change in her expression. To her, this entire dialogue was a pointless waste of time.
”There are no medicines that can restore a demon's human form. It's impossible.”
”I... I will find a way to help her! I will find it!” The boy's voice trembled, but a steely resolve rang through it.
”So please... I'm begging you, don't kill her! I will find my family's killer! I'll do anything, I swear!”
Her answer was silence. Without a single drop of pity, the girl pressed the blade of her katana to his sister's chest. The cold steel glinted in the pre-dawn air.
”I'm begging you! Please!! Don't do it!!!” The boy's voice shattered into a desperate, soul-wrenching scream as he saw the lethal strike begin.
The huntress's hand froze mid-air as she watched the boy perform the lowest possible bow before her, his forehead touching the snow. This humiliating, deepest form of prostration pierced her icy composure. For the first time in many years, a genuine fury ignited in the pit of her being, fanning a storm of emotions she had so meticulously buried deep within.
”I beg you… please… don't kill my little sister… don't…” The brother's voice broke, choked by a sob. He was no longer asking; he was pleading. And finally, unable to contain the despair any longer, he burst into tears, pressing his palms to his face.
”I'm begging you…”
It was as if the girl's composure shattered. All the pain, all the bitterness, everything she had stored up for years, burst out in a devastating torrent.
”Never give anyone the chance to kill you! Get up! Stop groveling in that humiliating position!” — her voice broke into a hoarse, ragged scream that held years of despair within it.
”If you had been stronger back then, your family would be alive! How could a weakling like you hope to save anyone? To find the enemy? Don't make me laugh! The weak have no rights, no choices! Their fate is to be mercilessly crushed by the strong! Even if a cure for your sister existed, do you think demons would listen to the pleas of a weakling? I won't listen to you either. That's reality, boy. Remember it.”
”Why didn't you fight back?! Why didn't you grab the axe?! Why did you turn your back to me?!” — each of her questions landed like the crack of a whip. — ”It was your weakness that let me capture your sister! I could have killed you both!”
Tears streamed down the boy's face. Bitter, scalding tears. Tears of realization — of his own stupidity, his helplessness, and that terrible, undeniable truth that she was right.
𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦… 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘺, 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳. 𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦. 𝘐 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯. 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯… 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘴. 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴. 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸…
𝘐𝘧 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘳… 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦. 𝘚𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳. 𝘗𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥. 𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘴, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮, 𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳.
𝘎𝘦𝘵 𝘶𝘱. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥.
”No!” — burst from the boy's lips. But at that same instant, from where his sister was, came her scream — hoarse, full of animal pain. A flicker of consciousness seemed to pierce through the demon-girl's frenzy.
”Stop!!!”
A resolve, sharp and reckless, flared up within him like a torch. He was no longer pleading. Gathering his last strength, he hurled a heavy stone toward the huntress. Finally, he had begun to act.
After the first stone came a second. Then the boy dashed toward the forgotten axe. A rising wind drove snow dust across the slope, creating a ghostly veil. The boy tried to confuse the huntress by darting between tree trunks, but she didn't even tense — she read his timid movements like an open book. Hurling one last stone at her, he swung the axe with a desperate cry and charged forward.
”Fool!”
This blind impulse finally snapped her patience. He wasn't thinking — he was driven by pure emotion. And as he stumbled, nearly upon her, Blue-Eye struck. A short, irresistible motion brought the katana's hilt down onto his back, between the shoulder blades. His body went limp instantly and collapsed onto the frozen earth as if scythed down.
”What… Where's the axe?” The dark-haired girl muttered to herself, her gaze shifting from his body upward, tracing the possible trajectory of a throw.
And in that instant, her instincts screamed. The axe, spinning, was flying straight for her head. Without a thought, purely on reflex, she jerked her neck to the left.
Thwum! — the heavy blade sank into the tree trunk next to her temple with a dull thud, continuing to quiver faintly. Her heart slammed against her ribs as if trying to break free. One more centimeter — and she would have had no more worries. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳.
Slowly, almost mechanically, she shifted her gaze to the boy. Her breathing, ragged with adrenaline, began to steady.
𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦, 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 — 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘹𝘦 𝘶𝘱𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘺. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘬𝘦… 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘥.
𝘏𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸. 𝘏𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘚𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘢𝘭 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘮… 𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯, 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥, 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦.
𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘺…
Suddenly, the body in her hands jerked in a convulsive spasm. And before she could comprehend what was happening, the demoness, twisting around, kicked her hard in the stomach. The blow was unexpected and dull, knocking the wind out of her. The dark-haired girl didn't react in time, her grip loosening.
Blue-Eye was thrown sideways, and her gaze locked onto the rapid movement: the demoness was already sprinting toward her brother.
𝘋𝘢𝘮𝘯 𝘪𝘵. 𝘚𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮.
The thought shot through her like an icy needle — not as a fear, but as an inevitable, horrifying fact.
Her eyes widened in shock, filled with silent disbelief. She froze, watching the scene that shattered all her calculations and convictions. But the demoness didn't pounce. Instead, she spread her arms wide, shielding her brother's body from the huntress. A low, guttural growl erupted from her throat — not hungry, but 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨. In her posture, in the turn of her head, in this very instinctive gesture, there was nothing of a man-eater. This was protection. Blind, animalistic, yet unconditional protection of the one who was still family to her.
”𝘕𝘦𝘻𝘶𝘬𝘰 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯.”
The boy's words echoed in her memory. Stupid, naive, suicidal words.
A long time ago, someone else had said the same thing. Said it with the same blind faith. And then they were the ones who got eaten. When these creatures are hungry, they don't distinguish faces. Kin blood is even sweeter, more nourishing to them. She had seen it dozens of times. This girl is wounded. She's spending her last strength to heal the wounds of transformation. She's exhausted, drained to the limit, and must be experiencing a ravenous, mind-consuming hunger. Right now, she should want to devour anyone nearby. Even… 𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺… her own brother.
𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨.
𝘚𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨.
The demon-girl pushed off from the tree to lunge at the huntress with renewed force. But Giyu had already made her choice. Her left hand, in a clear, practiced motion, sheathed the blade at her left side. When the demoness was mere centimeters away, the blue-eyed girl didn't flinch. Her right hand shot forward, fingers straightened into a rigid blade, striking upward at a sharp angle, precisely at the base of the demon's neck. Short. Clean. Without unnecessary cruelty. A hoarse gasp escaped Nezuko's lips. Her furious leap turned into a fall. The huntress merely bent her knees slightly, catching the limp, almost weightless body in her arms.
𝘐𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨… 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴…
Carefully laying the demoness on the snow, Giyu glanced at her clothing. The kimono was intact, though soiled with dirt and the dried blood. And then her keen blue gaze caught something important: while the girl was unconscious, her wounds were slowly but steadily healing. The speed was negligible by demon standards, but the process was ongoing. Without consuming flesh, without fresh blood. On its own.
The dark-haired huntress carefully laid the girl down next to the boy. Their pale faces against the white snow seemed so fragile. Stepping back, Giyu crouched by the tree trunk and pulled a small bamboo flask from her belt. Methodically, almost mechanically, she began taking it apart, separating a sturdy piece of bamboo. Fingers accustomed to the delicate work with a blade were now crafting something else — a stopper, a mouthpiece, a makeshift gag. If the demoness lost control, it would at least give people a chance.
The boy beside her kept tossing and turning, his face contorted in a grimace of pain. He was trapped in a nightmare with no escape. Finishing her work, Giyuu carefully inserted the bamboo mouthpiece into the sleeping demon's mouth. Giving them both one more look — the brother, clenching his fists in oblivion, and the sister, biting down on the bamboo — she leaned back against the tree trunk. Blue eyes, weary and incredibly empty, stared off into the distance, into the falling snow. Now all that was left was to wait for them to wake up.
After some time, the boy's body jerked sharply. He sat up, instinctively grabbing his sister's haori and pulling her close. His wide-open eyes reflected a whole storm: wild joy, primal fear, and complete confusion about what was happening.
”Awake?”
The boy flinched and turned toward the source of the voice. Holding his sister even tighter, he stared at the huntress standing motionless by the tree, as if part of the winter landscape.
”Listen carefully” — her voice sounded even, without the previous icy fury, but also without warmth. It was a voice giving an order. — ”You will go to an old man named Sakonji Urokodaki. He lives at the foot of mount Sagiri. Tell him that Tomioka Giyuu sent you.”
She paused, shifting her gaze to the motionless face of the demoness with the bamboo mouthpiece.
”It's cloudy now, go while you have the chance. But remember the most important thing: never, do you hear me, 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 let her go out in the sun.”
Without a single emotion, the one called Tomioka Giyu spoke and dissolved into the winter forest, vanishing from the boy's sight.
But she did not leave. Hidden in the shadow of the cedars, she watched to make sure he would take the first step.
The boy took the hand of his now-awake, sleepily chewing on the bamboo sister, and they slowly trudged up the slope toward the black eye-sockets of their ravaged home. All that remained was the duty of the living. He found a shovel and began to dig. Five holes. Five graves. A heart-wrenching sight, but such was the price of this world.
When the last clod of frozen earth fell on the final mound, the boy sank to his knees. His shoulders shook quietly. He prayed, whispering the names of those he would never hear again. Far below, on the edge of the forest, covering her eyes, a dark figure of a huntress also paused for a moment in silent prayer for the dead. And then, without looking back, she quietly left.
Having searched the village outskirts once more and found no traces of other demons, Giyu turned and walked away, never slowing her pace. The return journey to the Demon Slayer Corps headquarters was long, but she made no stops. She wrote the letter to her teacher right while walking, pulling paper and ink from her travel pouch. Her handwriting, despite the jostling, remained clear — a short, dry report about two children now heading east. Having finished, she didn't wait for a campsite. Right there on the forest path, she carefully rolled the paper, tied it to a crow's thin leg, and, with a slight wave of her hand, sent the black feather into the sky — to deliver a message that could change everything.