The bonfire burned, chasing away the darkness and infusing the clearing with warmth and comfort.
Lucien and Kanroji Mitsuri sat side by side on a fallen log. She happily nibbled on spicy strips, her eyes narrowed in delight.
The faint sweet scent of her lingered in the air, and Lucien's gaze drifted to the dancing flames, his mind swirling with thought. This world—this was the world of Demon Slayer.
A millennium ago, Kibutsuji Muzan, once a dying man, had become an immortal demon. Desperate, he had accepted a radical treatment from a well-meaning doctor. The cure came with a curse: when Muzan believed his illness had worsened, he killed the doctor in fury. Only afterward did he realize the side effect—the treatment had extended his life beyond death.
As an immortal, Muzan quickly discovered a gruesome truth: demons thrive on human flesh, but burn to ash under sunlight. So he turned humans to demons with his blood and sent them searching for the blue spider lily—a rare flower that might reverse his only weakness.
Over centuries, he created a legion of demons, all in pursuit of sunlight immunity.
But humanity did not sit idle. The Demon Slayer Corps rose, and among them was a prodigious swordsman: Yoriichi Tsugikuni. He developed Sun Breathing, the first breathing style, and nearly defeated Muzan himself.
From that foundation, five core breathing styles grew: Water, Thunder, Flame, Stone, and Wind. Later, new forms branched off—each with its own power and nuance.
For a long time, the war raged. Finally, Muzan killed Tanjiro's family—leaving only his sister, Nezuko, who was transformed into a demon. Driven by vengeance, Tanjiro became the "Child of Destiny." In the end, Muzan fell by his hand.
But Lucien's ambition lay elsewhere.
He wondered: what if one could drink Muzan's blood, survive the transformation, and become something more? If someone like Muzan could be consumed, perhaps his legacy could be taken over: an immortal demon who could command all others.
And with Nezuko—immune to sunlight—Lucien saw possibility. If Muzan had eaten her, would he finally lose his weakness forever? This idea thrilled Lucien. Immortality, power, freedom.
He suspected, too, that the original doctor's treatment wasn't simply medicine: maybe it was a virus, or a kind of gene therapy. Something that made cells regenerate, evolve, and never die as long as they weren't destroyed. Muzan, in Lucien's mind, wasn't just immortal—he was something beyond.
Lucien believed that without Tamayo's antidote—without that medicine—Muzan might have never been killed.
---
"Thank you for the food."
A soft voice pulled Lucien from his thoughts. Mitsuri had finished her snack, and her cheeks glowed with a faint flush.
He looked at her, calm but curious. Among the Demon Slayer Corps' elite, there were nine Hashira—Mitsuri being one of them. She used Love Breathing, a derivative of Flame Breathing.
He offered a small, enigmatic smile. "My name is Lucien."
"Oh… Lucien-san." Her voice trembled just a little. "I'm Kanroji Mitsuri. Please, guide me."
"Mitsuri is a lovely name. I'll call you that, if you don't mind."
"Ye-yes… Mitsuri is fine."
She smiled, twisting her fingers in her lap. Despite her strength, she was shy and warmhearted. Lucien saw that: her simplicity, its charm. She had joined the Corps hoping to find a husband stronger than herself—and she loved food. A lot.
"Earlier, you said you weren't part of the Corps—how did you kill that demon back there?" she asked.
Lucien hesitated, then said, "I use Thunder Breathing, but I don't have a Nichirin blade. So when I struck it down, I… threw its head into the fire." His tone made the confession sound casual, but it weighed on him.
Mitsuri's eyes widened in surprise. "Thunder Breathing? That's… incredible!"
She believed him easily—her mind was kind.
"I actually want to join the Demon Slayer Corps," he continued, "but I don't have any referrer."
A referrer, in their world, was someone who would train and vouch for new slayers, guiding them to the Final Selection.
"I don't have one," Lucien admitted quietly, the glow of the fire reflecting in his amethyst eyes.
Mitsuri tipped her head, pondering. "I can recommend you. If you pass Final Selection, you'll become a full member of the Corps."
"Thank you, Mitsuri," he said softly.
She shook her head in bashful excitement. "I mean it—besides, you bought me the spicy strips."
He leaned a little closer, and she waved her hand, giggling.
"By the way, why are you here right now?" he asked, shifting the conversation.
"This area—…" She looked around the forest, voice firming. "It's under my patrol. I heard some disturbance, so I came to check."
Lucien nodded. "Thank you for coming."
"Of course. It's my duty." Her cheeks reddened as she met his steady gaze.
Then she offered, "If you like, you can come to the Love Estate with me. In a few days, I'll put in your recommendation for the Final Selection."
His heart fluttered. "Please, I would be honored, Mitsuri."
"Y-yes! I'll make the arrangements."
He extinguished the fire softly by patting dirt over the embers. Side by side, they rose from the ground, their voices mingling with the evening breeze as they left the forest.
"Mitsuri, you're very thoughtful."
She smiled, fumbling slightly. "I just… didn't want the fire to spread."
Lucien smiled back.
The forest was quiet now, only the rustle of leaves and distant chirping breaking the silence. As they walked, Mitsuri glanced at him, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.
"You know… I've never met someone like you before," she said softly. "Not just strong… but clever, calm… and kind in a strange way."
Lucien chuckled faintly. "Kind? Perhaps. Strange? Almost certainly."
Mitsuri giggled, a sound that seemed to blend perfectly with the night. "Well, that's why I want to help you."
The two continued through the darkened forest, the bond between them quietly forming, unspoken but undeniable. A new chapter in both their lives had begun.
_______
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