Nezuko—bamboo muzzle still between her lips—curled up in Chika's arms. Beside them, Tanjiro's eyes welled with tears. After two long years, his sister had finally awakened.
Chika lowered her gaze to the girl resting against her chest. For Nezuko, this warmth felt achingly familiar; even after two years of slumber, she had faintly sensed the world around her. And when she finally opened her eyes, only to find neither Tanjiro nor Chika nearby—just Urokodaki's quiet figure—unease swelled in her chest.
The moment she caught their scent, she bolted from the house before anyone could stop her.
To Chika's surprise, she didn't panic at all.
Her father had died young, her mother often sick, and Tanjiro—ever the dependable eldest—had taken on the role of breadwinner. In his absence, Chika had looked after the younger children, filling the role of "mother" long before she herself was grown.
'Passive Skill Acquired: Maternal Instinct (S-Rank).'
Chika smiled softly, patting Nezuko's head. "It's okay now. We're home."
Tanjiro's tears spilled freely as old memories surfaced—of the days when their family was whole, of laughter and warmth. He could almost hear his mother's voice again.
Then Urokodaki appeared, his footsteps hurried despite his age. Seeing all three siblings together—alive—nearly broke the old man. His arms wrapped around them at once, pulling them into a trembling embrace.
"You're back… You're really back," he said, voice thick with emotion. "No injuries, right?"
For years, every student he'd sent to the Final Selection had perished. It had felt like a curse—one he could never lift. But now that curse was gone. If he weren't wearing the tengu mask, they would have seen the tears streaming down his wrinkled cheeks.
Later, inside the cabin.
Urokodaki set two steaming bowls of miso soup before them.
Chika and Tanjiro didn't even wait for them to cool—slurp!
Tanjiro: Delicious!Chika: Life restored!
Wiping her mouth, Chika grinned and held out the empty bowl. "Another!"
Urokodaki chuckled and obliged. A healthy appetite was a good sign.
"You… defeated that mutated demon then," he said, ladling another portion for her.
"Mm-hmm! Not just him—we wiped out most of the demons on Mount Fujikasane too!" Tanjiro answered brightly.
Urokodaki's hand twitched so hard the soup nearly spilled. "M-most of them…?"
He exhaled, a laugh breaking through—a laugh full of relief, disbelief, and just a hint of mischief.
Two reasons stirred in him:First, Sabito had once promised to pass the exam and cleanse the mountain of every demon. In a way, Chika and Tanjiro had fulfilled that dream.Second, he couldn't help but imagine the chaos this would cause for Headquarters. The Final Selection demons were captured by Hashira-rank swordsmen and kept there for training purposes. Now that they were gone… someone would have to restock them.
Urokodaki almost pitied his colleagues. Almost.
They talked long into the night—about the many forms of demons, about the upper ranks, and the terrifying "Blood Demon Arts" some wielded. But deep down, Urokodaki no longer worried. These two were different—true prodigies who had already mastered Total Concentration: Constant.
They would survive. They would rise.
And perhaps, one day, they would become the new pillars holding up the Corps.
Meanwhile, Nezuko sat quietly beside them, still unable to speak through the bamboo muzzle. Seeing her like that, Chika felt a pang of sympathy and turned to Urokodaki.
"Master, I know there's still a risk of her losing control, but she's shown self-awareness. You're a former Hashira, and we're not helpless anymore. How about letting her take off the muzzle—just here at home? She can put it back on when we travel."
At that, both Tanjiro and Nezuko turned their wide, pleading eyes toward the masked man.
Even with his decades of discipline, Urokodaki nearly caved on the spot. Those eyes—especially Nezuko's watery ones—were impossible to resist.
Finally, with a small nod, he consented.
The bamboo fell away, and Nezuko's face lit up like the sunrise. With a joyful cry, she threw her arms around Chika.
"Big sister!!!"
Tanjiro sat beside them, blinking, and poked his own cheek with a finger. "Nezuko… hey, I'm here too…"
Urokodaki watched the scene quietly, sipping his soup, steam curling upward.
What a sight, he thought, smiling beneath his mask. What a family.
After some laughter and a long conversation, Nezuko soon drifted back to sleep. According to Urokodaki, her slumber was necessary—since she refused to consume human flesh, she recovered strength only through sleep.
Chika listened, her mind turning over the idea.
If Nezuko slept to conserve energy because she couldn't eat… then maybe her own quick fatigue came from something similar?
But she quickly dismissed it. She didn't crave blood or flesh, and though her stamina drained fast, it replenished quickly too. No, her case was different.
Her gaze fell upon the sleeping Nezuko, the faint rise and fall of her chest peaceful in the lamplight.
In the original story, Nezuko had been one of the few who earned a happy ending—alive, whole, and human again. But still… if Muzan Kibutsuji had never existed, she would've had a far happier life, free of curses, free of blood.
He'd called himself a natural disaster.
But even a disaster earns curses from those it destroys.
And he wasn't a force of nature.
He was a man-made calamity.