The self-introductions were done. The air in the room grew warmer, the tension fading, replaced by a fragile sense of trust.
Tamayo shared her research, a lifetime spent unraveling the mysteries of demons, a desperate quest for redemption. Aoki told her about his journey, his struggles, the choices he'd made, the blood he'd spilled.
Then, Tamayo's beautiful face clouded, a hint of hesitation in her eyes. "Aoki-san, about your... your diet..."
Aoki understood. He met her gaze, unflinching. "You're wondering if I eat humans."
Tamayo bit her lip, her face a picture of concern. "After I became a demon, I despaired. I ate humans.
But I changed my body. I broke free from Muzan's control. I don't need human flesh. A little human blood is enough.
Yushiro is the same. He needs even less blood than I do.
If you want, I can help you..." Her voice trailed off, a gentle offer of salvation.
Aoki cut her off. "I don't eat humans."
Tamayo blinked, surprised.
"I don't eat humans," Aoki repeated, his voice firm, leaving no room for doubt. "I never have. I never will."
Tamayo's eyes widened. "You mean... You have no craving for human flesh?"
"No," Aoki said. "I don't eat humans. I eat demons."
"Eat demons?"
Even Yushiro, who'd been pointedly ignoring Aoki, his eyes fixed on Tamayo, looked up, a flicker of shock in his guarded gaze.
"You don't believe me? Want a demonstration?"
Aoki lifted his hand, activated Demon Devour. A dark vortex seemed to swirl in his palm, a silent promise of destruction. He reached for Yushiro, a deliberate provocation.
Yushiro frowned, stepped back from his touch. He met Tamayo's questioning gaze, explained, "His hand... It feels wrong. Unsettling."
"Your senses are sharp," Aoki said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Yushiro didn't acknowledge the praise. He remained wary, a protective shadow guarding Tamayo from harm.
Tamayo murmured, "Is that your Blood Demon Art, Aoki-san?"
"Something like that," Aoki said, his answer vague.
The System was his secret. He wouldn't share it.
Tamayo didn't press. She smiled, a gentle curve of her lips. "With that power, Muzan Kibutsuji will see you as a threat."
"He already does."
Aoki said, "I killed Lower Moon Five a few days ago. Oh, and Muzan favored him. They had similar pasts." He spoke of a shared burden, a twisted bond forged in pain.
"Muzan must be furious."
They looked at each other, a spark of understanding passing between them, a silent communion of shared purpose.
The thought of Muzan's anger was a small victory, a flicker of light in the darkness.
Yushiro's jaw tightened, his face a mask of resentment. He hated this stranger, the easy camaraderie he shared with Tamayo, the threat he posed to her safety.
Aoki's face grew serious. "Tamayo-san, I want us to be allies. We need to help each other fight Muzan Kibutsuji."
"I want that more than anything!"
Tamayo sighed. "It's hard for us to contact the Demon Slayer Corps. If we could work with them, our chances would be much better." Her voice was wistful, a longing for connection with the human world.
Aoki shrugged, noncommittal.
The Demon Slayer Corps, especially the Pillars, hated demons. It was a hatred forged in blood and loss.
In the original story, they'd only worked with Tamayo and Yushiro because of Nezuko, and because the situation was dire. Muzan's power had forced their hand.
The Corps wouldn't be so open now. Not yet.
He wouldn't beg for help. He wouldn't force an alliance. He'd walk his own path.
"Tamayo-san, I need you to make a drug. Something that stops Muzan from splitting apart and running," Aoki said, his voice firm, his focus clear.
That was why he'd sought her out.
Muzan's ability to flee was the biggest threat. It had allowed him to escape Yoriichi Tsugikuni, the strongest swordsman in history.
To kill Muzan, they had to stop him from running.
In the original story, Tamayo and Shinobu had worked together, creating a powerful drug that countered Muzan's powers. It was crucial to their success.
He didn't have Shinobu. But Tamayo had more time.
Tamayo said, "I've been researching that. I want to stop his ability to escape. I want to weaken him, poison him.
But I need Muzan's blood. I haven't been able to get enough." Her voice was tinged with frustration, a scientist facing an impossible challenge.
"I'll get you blood."
Aoki spoke quickly, his eyes burning with resolve.
Tamayo smiled, a flicker of hope in her weary eyes.
That was the power of an ally. A shared burden, a shared goal.
But her smile faded.
"Aoki-san, Muzan is strong. He can break down any poison, given time. Drugs alone won't kill him."
Aoki's face was calm. "You make the drug. I'll handle the rest." His voice was a promise, a pledge of power that resonated in the small room.
Tamayo looked at him, her eyes searching his soul. Then, she smiled, a gentle curve of her lips. "Okay. I believe you."
Aoki asked, "Is Muzan in Asakusa?"
Tamayo nodded slowly. "Yes. He has many identities. He spends most of his time here."
"You live so close to him? Is that safe?" Aoki frowned, concern etching lines on his face.
In the original story, Tamayo and Yushiro had been safe.
He wouldn't rely on fate.
Tamayo was important. He needed her.
They had to protect her.
"I stayed close to Muzan because I wanted a chance to kill him," Tamayo said, her voice quiet, tinged with a hint of regret. "But with your help, I don't need to risk it. We'll move somewhere safe."
"Good," Aoki said, nodding.
"It's a start," he thought.
He had an ally. He had a plan.
He had a chance.
...
They talked all night.
Tamayo had lived for centuries. She was kind, elegant, intelligent, a soul that had endured countless tragedies.
Aoki came from a world of information. He had knowledge she could only dream of. He had a vision of the future, a glimpse of what might be.
They shared a common enemy. They shared a burden. They were demons who yearned for something more.
They felt a connection, a kinship forged in darkness.
By the end of the night, they were allies. They were friends.
Aoki accepted Tamayo's offer. He'd stay with her, for now. He'd leave after the New Year.
He'd been running for too long. He was tired, bone-deep.
He needed to rest. He needed to plan.
He needed to prepare for the storm to come.
---
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