Muzan stood quietly at the edge of the mountain, his slit-like eyes fixed on a wooden house between the trees.
The house looked old, its paint faded and wood was worn by time. But Muzan knew this place well.
"That house…" he said under his breath, voice low and calm, "it belongs to Urokodaki Sakonji, the former Water Hashira."
Though the house seemed empty at first glance, signs told a different story.
The smell of smoke lingered in the air, and fresh footprints left marks in the snow nearby.
The door had been used recently—it wasn't locked tight. Yet, when Muzan glanced inside, the house was empty.
Urokodaki was not here now.
His eyes narrowed as he looked up. Mist was building up, clinging to trees like ghostly fingers.
"Maybe…" Muzan thought, "because this was his home, the souls of the children who died under him still wander nearby."
Beside him stood Nezuko. Her small body was tense.
She bit her lip, eyes looking from one shadow to the next, her hands clenched tightly as if holding back her nervousness.
Unlike Muzan, she seemed fragile—more like a scared human girl than a demon.
Her warmth, her fear, and the flicker of kindness in her gaze—all still alive beneath her demon form.
'She can sense the souls,' Muzan realized quietly. 'Something I cannot.'
Nezuko glanced up at him, confusion and nervousness mixed in her eyes.
"I want you to find them," Muzan said firmly. "The two ghosts I spoke about—they are here, somewhere in these woods. Bring them to me. I need to speak with them."
Nezuko swallowed hard, then nodded slowly.
"O-okay," she whispered.
---
The door creaked as Nezuko stepped inside the house. Dust floated in the air, settling on old furniture and creaky floorboards.
The smell of wood and snow was strong here, mixed with the faint scent of smoke from a fire long out.
Her eyes widened as she took slow, careful steps forward.
On a small rack, she saw a white and blue haori, folded neatly. Next to it lay a long sword with shiny letters engraved on the blade:
*DEMON SLAYER*
Nezuko's fingers twitched, and a strange feeling rose inside her. She stared at the sword, then gave a small, awkward laugh.
"Guess I'm not welcome here," she whispered softly.
She listened closely, but there were no ghosts. No whispers or shadows flickering along the walls. Just silence.
Feeling a little lost, Nezuko turned and stepped back outside, feeling the cold air against her skin once more.
---
The forest around the house was thick, and the trees were tall, their branches tangled like hands reaching out.
Mist was spread around the area, wrapping the woods in a quiet atmosphere.
Nezuko's footsteps crunched softly on the fallen leaves. Every snap of a twig made her freeze and look around nervously.
Then suddenly—snap!
Something flew toward her with a sharp whoosh!
She ducked just in time, narrowly missing a metal net meant to catch her.
"A trap?" she muttered, eyes wide and heart pounding.
Before she could move, another trap sprung—this one was a heavy rock dropping from above.
It hit her head with a dull thud. She yelped, blinking out tears.
Trying to steady her breath, Nezuko stepped forward slowly, more careful this time.
CRACK!
Just as she moved, a massive log swung out of nowhere, slamming into her stomach. It knocked the air from her lungs and hurled her into a tree—BANG!
"Grrr…" she growled, frustration flashing in her eyes. "I swear I was standing farther away than that."
Before she could get up—snap! A rope flew through the air, wrapping tightly around her feet and flipping her upside down.
Her kimono hung loose, exposing her as she struggled.
"Damn it!" she hissed, gripping her clothes to keep them from slipping completely.
Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw it—a dark blur moving fast among the trees.
"You…" she whispered fiercely. "You're the one doing this."
The air around her shifted. Her pink eyes glowed brighter, nails extending into sharp claws.
Steam hissed softly as her wounds closed, healing like magic.
With a swift slash—slice!—the ropes snapped.
Nezuko dropped to the ground and sprang forward like a wild animal, ready to catch whoever was hiding in the shadows.
---
The trees soon opened up, and Nezuko found herself in a clearing—a training field lit by moonlight.
In the center stood a giant rock with a thick rope tied around its middle.
She stopped. A flicker of movement caught her eye—the shadow was hiding behind the rock.
Nezuko moved closer, thinking maybe this was the person playing tricks on her.
As she stepped near, she saw a girl wearing a white fox mask with red markings, watching her silently.
Nezuko frowned.
"Why did you do that to me?"
The girl said nothing.
Then a cold feeling crept up Nezuko's spine. Her demon instincts screamed danger.
She quickly rolled to the left.
A sword appeared out of thin air, swinging where her neck had just been.
Her heart hammered in her chest.
She looked up—and behind her stood a boy wearing the same fox mask, his eyes cold and dead.
He hadn't been there a moment ago.
Her mind raced.
These two weren't just playing pranks.
They were the ghosts haunting this mountain.
---
The boy stepped forward, voice soft but cutting like ice.
"You don't belong here, demon."
The girl raised a smaller sword, eyes sharp.
"You should have stayed away from this mountain."
Nezuko stood still. She took a deep breath, lowering her claws and stepping forward with care.
"I… I don't want to fight," she said softly, her voice honest and steady. "My lord asked me to find you. He wants to talk."
The girl's grip tightened on her sword. Her eyes narrowed.
Without warning, she lunged. The blade sliced swiftly across Nezuko's neck, blood blooming on her skin.
Nezuko's eyes widened, shock freezing her in place. She touched the cut, voice trembling.
"Why? I only wanted to talk. I don't want to hurt you."
The two ghosts exchanged a cold, hard look.
"We don't talk to demons," the boy sneered. "Demons only bring pain and death."
Sadness flickered across Nezuko's face, but soon her expression hardened with resolve.
"Demon or not," she said firmly, "I believe we can get along. I have never hurt a human. Please, believe me."
The ghosts stared silently, the air thick with tension.
But Nezuko stood bravely, a quiet hope shining in her eyes.