The fourth time Haruto appeared in front of the Mt. Sagiri cabin, he collapsed to the ground, vomiting a large mouthful of blood.
He frantically touched his chest, where muscles were rippling, mending the wounds he had sustained at the previous temporal endpoint.
Haruto's face was ashen, and in the face of steadily approaching death, he truly began to fear—would there be a next time?
If he were killed by Muzan again, what would happen to him?
Would his soul be trapped in an endless temporal rift, or would he simply die?
This wasn't a battle; it was a one-sided torment. Even with Giyuu, they hadn't managed to leave even a single scratch on Kibutsuji Muzan.
"If we didn't make it in time, why not just pretend we don't know?"
But how could he pretend not to know?
If Haruto didn't know any of the people who died, then he could have been a bit more despicable, treating it all as a trial for the protagonist—simply killing more demons later to wash away his sins.
But the Kamado Family... he was so familiar with every child in the Kamado Family!
Nezuko, who loved konpeito and was good at everything she did; Takeo, who wanted to help his brother and was tough on the outside but soft on the inside; Hanako, who was very clingy to her brother; Shigeru, with his round head; and Rokuuta, who always hid behind Nezuko, secretly watching Haruto... Everyone's image was so clear. They weren't cold characters in an anime; they were people in this world who were still alive and well!
Before his third death, he had surveyed the inside of the house. Besides Kie, Nezuko, Takeo... five small children were sleeping in a row, but Tanjirou was nowhere to be seen.
Was he down the mountain? Is that why he escaped the fate of being killed?
Is that why, in the original story, he carried Nezuko through the heavy snow?
To inspire a child to rise and take up the banner of the Demon Slayer Corps, was it necessary to take away his entire life?
Haruto stumbled to his feet, pulled out the demonization potion, and rushed towards Mt. Kumotori.
Just one more try... just one more try... at least to prove... that he had done everything he could.
Otherwise, even if he lived, how could he face Tanjirou's sorrowful eyes later... "Mama!"
Kie's body softly fell onto Nezuko, her warm blood soaking her kimono.
However, in the next second, she was lifted by the man at the door, who was clutching her throat. The bright white snow reflected the moonlight, allowing her to clearly see the man's eyes, like red plum blossoms.
"Strange..."
The demon's low murmur sounded in her ear: "Why do I have a sense of déjà vu, as if I've already killed these people?"
The doubt lasted only a moment. Muzan looked at the girl, who was on the verge of suffocating from his grip. A slit opened in his palm, and the progenitor demon's blood floated out, entering Nezuko's body.
The girl slumped silently, as if dead.
Muzan turned his gaze to the children huddled together inside the house. Ha... useless human emotions. Even at this point, the older children were still desperately shielding the younger ones behind them... What use was that? It truly made him want to laugh.
Young Hanako tightly clutched Takeo's sleeve, but even Takeo-nii was trembling violently... Just awakened from sleep, Mama and older sister had both bled before her eyes, and the murderer still intended to enter the cabin... Large tears rolled from the girl's eyes as she cried out with all her might.
"Onii-chan—!"
Onii-chan—!
Having returned too late and unable to refuse the kindness of Grandpa Saburo, who lived at the foot of the mountain, Tanjirou had to stay the night. He suddenly opened his eyes from his sleep.
It was... his sister's voice!
(Of course, he didn't hear it; referring to the miraculous family bonds in Demon Slayer, these are exchanges at the consciousness level.)
The clear childish voice pierced the sky, making Muzan frown.
Noisy.
But he did not walk further into the cabin. The swordsman who had leaped up from the cliff edge captured his full attention.
Veins bulging, breathing rapidly, his misty blue eyes mixed with bloodlust and greed.
Muzan was all too familiar with these phenomena; was he turning into a demon?
But all demons came directly or indirectly from Kibutsuji Muzan himself; his blood flowed within them, allowing Muzan to perceive and control them.
However, with this swordsman before him, Muzan could not sense his own blood within him.
Clearly demonizing... yet unrelated to the progenitor demon?
This conclusion displeased and intrigued Kibutsuji Muzan.
The swordsman did not pose the slightest sense of danger to him. Muzan could twist the swordsman's neck at any time he wished, or disembowel him in various ways.
"So weak... how can you possibly harbor a secret?"
Haruto looked at Muzan, fear and sadness vanishing from his eyes.
After that clear childish voice pierced the night sky, all the negative, 'offering incense,' wailing, and 'can't bear to watch' comments in his field of vision disappeared.
Had the storyline changed?
Or... was this his last chance?
Haruto didn't know. He could only hold onto the belief that this was his last time... facing Muzan!
...Sister, sister.
That was my... sister's voice!
Tanjirou ran quickly through the snow, the scabbard of his nichirin blade at his waist constantly hitting his thigh.
My sister... why is my sister crying so tragically!
The cold wind whipped at his thin clothes. He ran desperately forward, his eyes unknowingly filled with tears.
In the wind... there was a strong smell of blood.
Was it jackals, bears, or—demons!
From afar, Tanjirou saw his small wooden cabin. The smell of blood emanated from the cabin.
The clearing in front of the cabin was a mess. Someone had engaged in a fierce battle here, and blood was splattered everywhere.
Tanjirou stumbled and fell onto the snow at the doorway. Inside, he heard the mournful cries of young children.
Hanako's voice... it was Hanako crying. She was okay, thank goodness... He crawled inside, but the scene before him made tears of blood almost well up in his eyes.
Mama lay on the floor inside the house, the blood flowing from her throat staining the floor red.
The children were crying and wailing around her. No, where was Nezuko?! Where was Takeo?!
The moment Tanjirou appeared, Rokuuta lunged to hug him, but Shigeru fiercely pulled him away.
"Brother... Mama is dead, Older Sister was taken away..." Hanako desperately pointed to the mountain forest outside: "Mr. Haruto and the black-haired gentleman are also going to die... Takeo-nii followed them... Brother! How could things turn out like this?!"
Oh God, how could things turn out like this... "You all stay here with Mama. Brother is going to check, and he'll be back soon." He tried hard not to let his tears fall as he raced towards the battlefield in the mountain forest.
The nichirin blade in his hand was clutched tightly, the powerful grip almost making his whole body tremble.
Amidst the gently falling snowflakes, he saw the three people struggling in battle.
Only Haruto and Giyuu were struggling. They stood back to back, making their final desperate stand.
If not for wanting to see what changes had occurred in Haruto's body, Muzan would have killed them both long ago.
He hadn't expected to spend some time on two useless individuals... Once he devoured the swordsman's flesh and blood, he would naturally know what had happened to him.
Looking at the whitening sky, Muzan decided to finish them off quickly.
Suddenly, a strange yet familiar surge of emotion welled up in his heart.
Muzan turned around in confusion. In the snow, a young swordsman, gripping his sword, rushed towards him.
The flowing hair, the Mark on his forehead, the extreme hatred in his eyes.
And... the Nichirin Hanafuda earrings dangling from his earlobes.
Almost instantly, Muzan was pulled back to that night centuries ago, that... Yoriichi Tsugikuni night.
Posted October 11 at 5:15 PM
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