Hachijō Island.
Torrential rain poured from the sky like a waterfall, heavy droplets smashing against the ground and splashing up in bursts.
Within the overwhelming downpour, a slender figure sprinted forward, each step sinking into the muddy earth, leaving deep and shallow footprints that gradually blurred under the relentless rain.
It was a boy who appeared to be around eleven or twelve years old, his clothes tattered, his seaweed-like hair soaked and plastered flat against his forehead.
Between his disheveled locks were heterochromatic eyes—left green, right gold. Despair and defiance warred on his face, his cheeks torn by an unknown force, crescent-shaped gashes stretching from the corners of his mouth to his ears, exposing grotesque red muscle like jagged ravines.
Strangest of all, a small white snake coiled around his neck like a scarf.
The serpent's fierce slit eyes fixed on the rain behind them, its tongue flicking incessantly, as if sensing a monstrous predator lurking within the storm.
Swish, swish, swish!
A sound of scales scraping against mud suddenly pierced the rain—a tiny noise that struck Obanai Iguro's ears like a death knell.
Gently, he pulled the snake from his neck and flung it aside with all his strength. He could die, but his friend could not.
In the foul-smelling dungeon, this snake had been his only "family."
"Kaburamaru, run!"
Obanai screamed hoarsely, then drew a dagger from his chest—a blade originally meant for suicide, but now wielded in defiance of fate.
The moment he turned, a massive serpentine monster burst through the rain.
Its upper body was that of a woman with a grotesquely split mouth, her face twisted in a horrifying grin, rows of jagged teeth sending chills down the spine.
Yellow slit eyes gleamed with cold malice, her lower half a writhing black serpent's tail, lashing like a blade.
"Keep running!"
"Pathetic human. Wouldn't it be easier to just die?"
The Snake Demon smirked, taunting him with amusement.
"Why don't you die, monster?!"
Obanai spat at her, gripping the dagger tightly before charging forward without hesitation. Even if he knew he would die, there was a difference between surrendering to death and fighting until the end.
A descendant of sinners like him deserved death—but not at the hands of this abomination.
"Your entire clan's wealth came from me!"
The Snake Demon effortlessly swatted Obanai aside, sending the dagger flying into oblivion.
Cough, cough, cough!
Gritting his teeth, Obanai refused to cry out despite the agony of broken bones.
Tired of toying with its prey, the Snake Demon licked its lips. It was hungry—time to feast.The massive serpentine body sprang up, the snake demon's mouth stretching like putty until it was large enough to swallow a whole person before stopping.
"Monster!"
"Even if I die, I won't let you get away with this!"
On the twelve-year-old boy's face was not fear of death, but hatred for the Demon.
At the critical moment, a blazing sword energy sliced through the curtain of rain, severing half of the snake demon's body in one stroke. Black blood sprayed out in all directions.
The snake demon froze. An attack of this level could only come from a Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps.
Damn it!
Without hesitation, it turned and fled into the curtain of rain, moving at the fastest speed it had ever mustered in its life.
"Damn Hashira, why did they come after me?"
"Damn it!"
The snake demon cursed venomously. The wound stretching from its shoulder down to its stomach was healing, but every cell in its body trembled.
The Hashira was too strong—far beyond its ability to handle. It had no choice but to abandon the child.
"Child, I'll be right back!"
Shinjuro Rengoku's bright and warm voice dispelled the cold rain. Obanai only saw a blur flash by, followed by the rapid sound of footsteps.
Even though he understood nothing, he could still feel the overwhelming pressure.
At that moment, a longing arose within him—a desire to possess that kind of power to fight demons.
But in the next instant, that hope vanished. He was merely the descendant of sinners, destined to die in the downpour.
Just then, a gentle voice spoke, unlike the fiery tone from before. This one was more like the spring breeze of March.
"Hello, my name is Tendo Kazama. What's yours?"
When he looked up, a pair of brilliant golden eyes met his gaze, so dazzling that Obanai could barely lift his head.
This person looked about his age. Why was he acting so familiar?
Then, an umbrella opened above Obanai's head, shielding him from the icy rain.
"I said, what's your name?"
Tendo asked knowingly. He raised his hand and handed Kaburamaru back to Obanai, saying:
"Such an important family member—don't go losing him again!"
"How did you—"
His words caught in his throat. As Kaburamaru coiled back around his neck, he struggled to his feet and instinctively stepped out from under the umbrella.
He couldn't bring himself to look at the boy before him. He felt ashamed.
I'm just the descendant of a wicked family that relied on demons to plunder wealth. My blood is tainted. How could I stand beside someone like him?
Maybe I really should just die.
Seeing the despondent boy standing in the rain, Tendo felt a pang of sympathy. He knew the past of every Hashira in the Demon Slayer Corps.
The Iguro family Obanai was born into lived in luxury off the wealth stolen by demons, sacrificing a clan infant periodically in exchange for prosperity.
He loathed the blood running through his veins, always believing himself guilty.
Even joining the Demon Slayer Corps to kill demons was his way of atonement.
But who could decide their own birth? Being born into this life wasn't his fault.
Obanai wouldn't understand such words now. Maybe, with time, things would change.
"You'll get sick if you stay drenched like this. Think about him, won't you?"
Tendo pointed at Kaburamaru and moved closer to Obanai.
This time, Obanai didn't retreat. He glanced at Tendo and said coldly:
"Obanai Iguro. That's my name."
"Tendo Kazama. Let's get along from now on!"
Tendo flashed a radiant smile. Snakes don't get sick from rain—he had told a little white lie.
"Hmph."
"Why did you help me?"
Tendo's next words stunned Obanai.
"I helped because I wanted to. That's all!"
Obanai looked bewildered. It was the first time he'd heard such a whimsical reason. If he weren't a sinner, he might have talked more with him.
A moment later, footsteps echoed through the rain again—something moving at incredible speed.
No surprise, the old man came back so quickly.
It makes sense, though. In front of a Hashira, a snake demon is just trash—maybe slightly stronger trash at best.
Suddenly, a blue figure lunged at the two of them. Tendo immediately sensed the danger.
But it was too late to draw his sword. The presence of Shinjuro, a Hashira, and his familiarity with the plot had made Tendo let his guard down.
And this sudden turn of events came too abruptly.
The blue figure was another demon.
Damn it, I got careless. Didn't dodge in time.
At the last moment, Tendo shoved Obanai aside.