The bronze mirror reflected lies like truth. Akira Shiranui practiced both with equal precision.
"Concerned colleague." She let worry crease her brow in calculated increments. The expression needed to suggest sleepless nights spent agonizing over demon casualties, not planning their recruitment.
"Grateful newcomer." Her features shifted—humble appreciation replacing manufactured anxiety. Too much gratitude appeared suspicious. Too little seemed ungrateful.
"Devoted demon slayer." The final mask settled into place. Earnest dedication mixed with just enough vulnerability to inspire protective instincts. Perfect for today's performance with Tanjiro.
She studied the result in polished bronze, noting how morning light caught the amber in her eyes. Those eyes had watched her family burn for the crime of seeking understanding instead of dealing death.
The Corps would learn what their rigid certainties cost.
"You're getting too comfortable with him," she told her reflection. Her fingers adjusted the precise angle of her hair ornament. Each detail mattered. Each gesture carried weight in the careful theater of deception.
But even as she spoke the warning, something twisted uncomfortably in her chest. Tanjiro's genuine kindness made her skin crawl—not with disgust, but with longing for something she'd buried beneath two years of methodical hatred.
Approaching footsteps pulled her from the mirror. Time to become Akira the devoted Hashira rather than Akira the architect of revenge.
---
"Good morning, Tanjiro-kun."
Akira settled across from him in the dining hall with practiced grace. His shoulders relaxed at her approach. His scent carried exhaustion mixed with something sharper—worry that hadn't been there yesterday.
"You look tired. Another restless night?"
"Just thinking about today's mission." Tanjiro pushed rice around his bowl absently. The motion revealed hands that trembled slightly from fatigue. "These demon reports from the eastern villages have been... unusual."
𝘐𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨. His instincts were sharper than anticipated. "Unusual how?"
"The descriptions don't match typical demon behavior. More organized. Almost like they're following some kind of pattern."
𝘛𝘰𝘰 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦. The assessment hit like ice water. She'd been careful with her demon contacts, but Tanjiro's enhanced senses picked up details others missed.
"Perhaps they're learning from each other? Even demons can adapt."
She paused, then added with feigned curiosity, "How is Nezuko adjusting to these changes in demon activity? I imagine her unique perspective could be valuable."
Tanjiro's scent shifted—protectiveness mixed with concern, sharp as blade steel. His chopsticks clicked against porcelain. "She's been having dreams lately. Nothing serious, just... echoes from her demon days."
𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵. Nezuko's psychic connection to the demon network was activating exactly as planned. "That must be frightening for her. And for you."
"She says they're just fragments. Memories that don't quite make sense." Tanjiro's grip tightened on his chopsticks until knuckles went white. "But she seems troubled by them."
𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘥, 𝘪𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘯𝘪𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘺.
"The mind remembers what the heart wishes to forget. Perhaps talking to someone who understands transformation could help?"
"You think so?"
"I think isolation makes any burden heavier." The truth of those words surprised her. When had she last shared her own burdens with anyone? "We're all here to support each other."
Tanjiro's expression softened with gratitude that made her stomach clench. Such trust, freely given. Such faith in human goodness.
He had no idea how dangerous that made him.
---
Master Ubuyashiki's son spread the mission map across the low table. His young face was grave with inherited responsibility.
"Reports indicate increased demon activity in the Katsura mountain region."
Akira studied the topography with practiced interest, already knowing which path would serve her purposes. "The terrain there is difficult. Perhaps we should approach from the eastern pass?"
"That route adds half a day's travel," another Hashira protested. His impatience was evident in clipped syllables.
"But it provides better surveillance opportunities."
Akira's voice carried a soothing cadence that made opposition seem unreasonable—the first form of Breath of Lies applied to human minds instead of demon consciousness.
"Surely thoroughness serves us better than speed?"
The protesting Hashira's objections died unspoken. His expression grew distant as her breathing pattern influenced his emotional state. Around the table, other Corps members nodded agreement without quite understanding why.
Tanjiro shifted uncomfortably. His enhanced senses detected something his conscious mind couldn't identify.
"Something feels... I'm not sure. The eastern approach makes tactical sense, but—"
"Your instincts are valuable, Tanjiro-kun," Akira interrupted gently. She suppressed her breathing technique before he could analyze what he'd sensed. "What concerns you?"
"I can't put my finger on it. Just a feeling that we're missing something important."
𝘛𝘰𝘰 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘥. His instincts screamed warnings he couldn't articulate, like an animal sensing earthquake tremors. She needed to redirect that intuition before it crystallized into conscious suspicion.
"Then we'll be extra careful. Your nose has saved more lives than any of us can count."
The young master nodded decisively. "Eastern approach it is. Tanjiro-san and Akira-san will investigate together."
"Of course," Akira agreed. She was already calculating which of her contacts would be waiting along that route. Kage had positioned three demons in strategic locations, each trained to play their role in the careful theater of purification.
---
As the meeting dispersed and preparations began for their departure, Akira found herself alone with the mission map. The eastern pass wound through forests that looked remarkably similar to the ones surrounding her childhood home.
She traced the route with her finger, memory overlaying cartography until she could almost smell pine needles and her mother's cooking, could almost hear her father's voice explaining the behavioral patterns he'd observed in captured demons.
"𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯, 𝘈𝘬𝘪𝘳𝘢-𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳—𝘪𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥."
Such noble intentions. Such tragic consequences.
The laboratory had been in a forest exactly like the one they'd be entering tomorrow. Her father had chosen the location for its isolation—protection for the surrounding villages should his experiments go wrong, privacy for research the Corps viewed with suspicion.
He'd never imagined that isolation would make his family easier targets when suspicion turned to accusation.
"Akira-san?" Tanjiro's voice startled her from memories that felt more vivid than the present moment. "Are you ready to go over the mission details?"
"Of course." She rolled the map carefully, movements precise and controlled. "Though I should warn you—that particular forest holds some... difficult memories for me."
"We could request a different assignment."
𝘚𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘯. "No. Running from the past only gives it more power over the present."
Tanjiro studied her with those too-perceptive burgundy eyes. "Sometimes confronting the past is exactly what we need to move forward."
𝘐𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦. "And sometimes the past confronts us whether we're ready or not."
As they walked toward their quarters to prepare for departure, Akira found herself dreading and anticipating tomorrow in equal measure. The forest would test her resolve, her carefully maintained facades, her ability to complete her mission while protecting the one person in the Corps who'd shown her genuine kindness.
Tomorrow, in a place that looked too much like home, she would have to choose between justice and friendship.
She already knew which choice duty demanded.
The question was whether her heart would let her make it.