They were young. So very young, and innocent, and unaware.
She was chasing Tanjiro around the house, both of their giggles filling the air. He was older than her and naturally faster but she was determined and so when he looked back to laugh at her she forced her pudgy little legs to move faster, launching herself at him so that they both went tumbling to the ground in a pile of laughs.
"What are you two doing?" their mother scolded gently as she came to the threshold of the house.
"Playing!" Tanjiro chirped.
"I caught Tanjiro!" Nezuko boasted proudly as she sat up, still pinning Tanjiro to the ground.
"Get off!" Tanjiro ordered playfully, pushing her off before scrambling away with a grin on his face. Nezuko rolled in the dirt for a minute before laughing and taking chase once more.
"That's not fair! I caught you fair and square!!" Nezuko cried, a grin still on her face.
She was so happy. This is how it was meant to be, Tanjiro and her, under the warm sun with the grass under their feet. No worries or cares.
She chased Tanjiro through the trees - she knew this mountain like the back of her hand. The rocks in the ground were familiar obstacles and the roots were old foes trying to trip her steady footing. She laughed as she brushed them all aside and kept her eyes trained on that checkered haori that flew behind her brother like a signal flag.
Tanjiro slipped through a thick bush and disappeared from Nezuko's eyes for a moment but only or a moment because Nezuko's quick feet carried her through that bush and into a clearing full of -
Snow.
It was snowing.
Nezuko panted from the exertion, her eyes narrowing as she took in the confounding change in weather. Small clouds built up with every exhale and floated into the cloudy sky that had been golden and bright not a few seconds ago. Nezuko felt that she was taller and looked down to find she was grown now - she was...
Why did this feel right?
Her hand dropped down to her side to find her sword - but it was not there. Where was it - Where was it!?
Why did she need it?
Her panic faded as she furrowed her brows. Why would she need a sword?
Her feet were growing cold in the snow as were her fingers.
"Tanjiro!?" she called, looking around the clearing in confusion. Where had he gone? There were no footprints - no sign that her brother had even come this way. "TANJIRO!?"
Her voice echoed on the side of the mountain, ringing back to her own ears but going unanswered in this sea of white and cold.
She closed her eyes and tried to tell herself it was fine - she must be imagining things. It couldn't be winter - it couldn't be snowing.
Snowing meant blood and silence and death and -
She clamped her hands over her ears in an attempt to stop the thoughts - she didn't want to hear those things. She didn't want to think about it.
Don't think about the broken door and the walls stained with red and the frosty air that clung to the back of her throat with the smell of iron and blood. Don't - don't.
The memories were a terrible rush of pain through her trembling mind and she nearly screamed as they returned. She didn't WANT them. She didn't want to remember these things - she wanted to go home and hide in her mother's arms, crying her eyes out like the child she was - the child she wanted to be.
But Mother was gone. The house was gone. It all was gone.
"Kill them all," a distant voice whispered, snaking her way into her mind like an unwanted parasite. It curled and twisted in her mind making her want to fall to the ground and thrash around until it left her.
"All of them," the voice ordered again.
Nezuko forced herself to open her eyes and found Tanjiro standing before her in his demonic form with Muzan behind him, covering his eyes. Muzan didn't see her, his red eyes stared beyond her form with cold anger as his claws hands hid Tanjiro's eyes. Tanjiro had his hands wrapped around Muzan's wrists, his knuckles white as he strained to pull them away, small whimpers in the back of his throat.
"We must kill them," Muzan snarled.
"I don't want to!" Tanjiro sobbed as he struggled to pull Muzan's hands away. "Please!"
A cold rage came over Nezuko as she forced herself to swallow the memories that were drowning her. She took a step forward to try and help - but her knees gave way. She fell to the snowy ground like a limp rag doll, blood pouring out of her throat that had been torn open.
...
She was dying.
The realization hit her harsher than any burst of the cold northern wind. She was dying. She couldn't be dying! Tanjiro sob's tore her attention away from her crimson filling the snow below her back to the struggle.
She couldn't die - she had to help - she had to stop it!
She couldn't DIE!
"You are strong, young one," a warm voice soothed as a hand pressed against her trembling back. Weakly, she looked up and found a man staring down at her with oft eyes and a cascade of red hair falling from his back. Fiery marks lay staining his face like blood splatters unable to washed away.
Nezuko held her bleeding throat and tried to croak out a beg but only managed to gurgle.
The man looked at her with a sad gaze - something seemed familiar. A warmth filled Nezuko's body as she looked up at the man
"I am Yoriichi, and you - you are Nezuko Kamado. You are going to save your brother," Yoriichi's voice was firm and confident, filling Nezuko's chest with fire.
She heard Tanjiro choke out another sob and clenched her jaw as she gripped her bleeding throat.
"Do not despair. If you can't save him as a human, then, perhaps we can do it... as a demon."
Nezuko opened her eyes. The colors were brilliant - bright and popping out like she was seeing the world for the first time. She pushed herself up weakly and rasped out a shaky breath that forced all of the blood in her lungs to come streaming out, splattering on the ground as she shakily looked at the chaos taking place.
Tanjiro was fighting Mitsuri and Obanai - tears streaming down his face as he danced around like a puppet on a tight string. Muzan was tearing through the other ranks, furiously exchanging blows with Sanemi who seemed to be covered in his own blood.
Nezuko's sharp eyes wandered the battlefield, tuning it all out for a moment until her sharp eyes landed on a familiar sword that lay discarded but a few feet away. Shakily, she pushed herself and took an unsteady step towards the sword, then another, and another. She reached down and plucked up the dark blade, marveling at how the touch of the metal made her fingers tremble and her cells want to curl into dust.
Power flowed through her veins as she looked back to where Muzan stood, oblivious to her position. He seemed animalistic now, a smile on his face as he lashed out uncontrollably - in desperation, something ancient in her noted. There was no fear in her heart as she took her stance, she gazed at Muzan cooly, feeding the anger in her chest like it was a growing bonfire that could outburn the sun.
She would kill him.
He'd killed all that was human in her... no matter. She was more than flesh and blood now.
Her feet left the ground with incredible speed, and yet everything felt so slow. The hashira, Muzan, all of it felt so incredibly drawn out. Nezuko easily avoided one of Muzan's wild attacks, ducking under the whip and taking a breath, filling her cold body with oxygen that she no longer required, firing it up like a steam engine. A growl built up in her throat as she allowed strange instincts to guide her hands, following footsteps that were not her own.
She danced under the attacks, drawing Muzan's attention only when she closed the distance, her sword already cutting through his neck like it was butter, his demonic strength posing no challenge when mixed with her form and inhuman gifts.
Muzan saw her eyes flash like a cat's pupils and felt fear as his head was cut off. Even as he grew it back within a moment he couldn't help but take a few steps back. Nezuko saw it, she saw the fear flicker in his crimson eyes and she relished in it.
All of the pain - all of the agony she and everyone else had suffered was because of him. So many people died because of him - so many lives were ruined.
Her anger bubbled into a roar as she used her voice, it sounded strange to her ears - older, more monstrous
"MUZAN!" she roared in name as a threat. He was her quarry and she would destroy him. She had her father's blood in her and her mother's strength - she had the ancient form of a master long gone and the demonic blood of a brother who long-resisted the oldest demon in this world.
She was Nezuko Kamado - and she was going to slay her final demon.
Something in Tanjiro was twisting and resisting desperately. Something in his foggy mind flickered in agony and absolute despair. That deep regret and sadness inside him remembered the human girl's still body after Muzan ripped her throat out, something stirred as a familiar voice raced past his ears.
He...
He wanted to stop. Stop everything.
He tried to wake up but he felt so heavy - he felt like he was drowning and sleeping all at once and had nothing to climb out with. He himself tried to scream as the realization washed over him that his body was not his own but no sound emerged from his lips. He sobbed and begged to be let out but he was in a murky haze that gripped him like claws.
His consciousness reminded him of the girl laying in her own blood. He cared about that girl - why did he care? She was human - he needed to kill humans -
NO! No, she was warm and safe and... and happy. She was dead. She was happy? She was dead.
Tanjiro twisted and screamed again, sobbing as the confusion clung to his mind. Who was he? Where was he? Where was Master - DON'T CALL HIM THAT! Why not? What was wrong with Master? Who was he? What was happening?
A roar quieted his panic. He felt something in his blood still as someone roared a challenge to Master. Part of his body twisted to see and with a gasp Tanjiro forced himself to open his eyes.
He could see again, he wasn't in a haze or a fog - he was in this world and there were tears streaming down his face and blood on his hands. There were two demon slayers trying to kill him mercilessly - and he was trying to kill them. There was Nezuko, she was different now, taller and lithe, with fangs in her mouth and leaf-like tattoos dancing up her skin like memorizing patterns. She danced around the room, her sword glimmering like the night sky as she snarled her threat to her foe... Muzan.
Tanjiro felt her... He felt her anger and rage, the ancient patience and power that lay beneath her surface, guiding her feet as she slashed away at Muzan's many attacks. He felt her rage - and it burned something in him. Something that wasn't him, something that was toxic and sick, something deep in his gut that didn't belong there.
Muzan.
Tanjiro dodged the two demon slayers once more and let out a gasp - he could breathe. Muzan had hated it when he breathed - it made him feel human and Muzan had wanted Tanjiro to be anything but human.
But Tanjiro wasn't Muzan - he was Tanjiro.
He took another breath and looked to the demon king, his blood running warm like a fire.
He was Tanjiro...
And that was his sister.
(See! It's fine. We're fine. Plot armor guys, calm down.
Love y'all, thanks so much for reading! Have a great day/night!!)