What the hell just happened?
"Holy shit… why the hell was I acting so edgy and bloodthirsty before?" I muttered, dragging a hand down my face. "It's like the soul of some generic dark shounen protagonist took over me. All that was missing was white hair and glowing red eyes."
I glanced at my reflection in the window, half-expecting my eyes to flash crimson.
"Fucking hacks mode," I mumbled, annoyed at myself.
I tried to slide my sword back into its sheath… but instead, the empty hilt just dropped to the floor with a soft clink.
I blinked at it for a second. "Oh right, no blade. Great."
Deciding that my swordsmith didn't need another reason to threaten my life, I bent down to pick up the sheath, rubbing the back of my neck as I scanned the glittering fragments of my once-proud Nichirin blade scattered around the room.
Just perfect.
'Well, at least the demon's dead'
Then, movement flickered in the corner of my eye.
I tensed. My hand shot out to grab my sword—Only to remember it no longer existed.
"Shit," I whispered, feeling the weight of the situation crash down on me. "I can't kill a demon without a Nichirin sword…"
The shuffling grew louder, as something started to push up one of the pieces of the wooden tiles. My eyes narrowed as I calculated the next approach. Retreat would be the ideal option, or if I could somehow lure it into the village full of UV lamps.
The bustling continued. My eyes tracked the source of the noise, locking onto the trembling wooden tile as it rose slowly, scraping against the floor.
Thud.
A small figure emerged from beneath it—a child, covered in dirt and trembling as if they had been hiding for days. Wide, hollow eyes peered up at me, their frail hands clutching the edge of the floorboard for balance.
'A...child? No wait, isn't this that demon that attacked me before?'
The girl blinked up at me, her eyes wide with confusion and fear. I studied her carefully, but there was no sign of her being a demon or any sort of demonic aura around her.
'That's not possible, I know I didn't mistake recognizing her, so how did she turn back into a human? Maybe it's a Blood Demon Art that disguises her?'
"Where… am I?" she whispered, her voice barely audible as she cradled her scraped arm and glanced nervously at the shattered remains of the house. I looked at her scraped arm, realizing the wound on her arm was not regenerating.
'No way, so she's human?' I thought in confusion trying to connect the dots 'No wait, only the Upper Moon demons can turn humans into demons. That woman was only about as powerful as a lower moon. So there's no way that woman made her a demon...Then how did she become one?'
"I could ask you the same thing," I said, keeping my tone calm as I took a cautious step closer. "How did you get here?"
She hesitated, her lips trembling as tears welled up in her eyes. "I… I was sent here by my dad," she stammered.
"Dad?" I repeated, narrowing my eyes. "Why would he—"
The girl's breath hitched, and she wiped her face with her sleeve, struggling to form the words.
"We were… we were eating together," she said, her voice trembling as she stared at the ground. "Me, my mom, and my dad. Everything was fine… until really thick mist came in our house"
Her fingers clutched the torn fabric of her dress, knuckles turning white. "It covered everything. Our whole village… it was so thick, I couldn't see anything. At first we thought it was just a normal mist"
"And then…" Her eyes darkened, her voice dropping to a whisper. "A small creature with horns came into our house. It… it killed my mom right in front of me. My dad tried to stop it but...he just threw Dad away with no effort"
My stomach twisted at her words. I knew that description all too well, both the demon and the location.
'Thick mist and a small demon with horns... That sounds like my first mission'
"My dad told me to run," she continued, her voice breaking. "He said he'd hold it off… to keep me safe. I ran and ran, but the mist followed me. I thought I got away, but then… I found her."
Her small frame shook violently. "The woman… the one with the mansion. She… she found me. After that… I don't remember anything. Everything went dark until now."
She looked up at me, her tear-streaked face full of desperation. "Is my dad… still alive?"
"He..." I trailed off, my mind drifting back to the village.
There had been no bodies—just the overwhelming stench of decay. Rusted iron, rotting food, crumbling wood. The place had aged unnaturally fast, but human bodies didn't decay that quickly. If he had died there, I would've found something. Bones, remnants—anything.
But there was nothing.
'Which means he probably ran away.'
I crouched to her level, steadying my voice. "Who's your dad? What's his name?"
She sniffled, wiping her eyes again. "He's the village chief. He… he helped everyone escape when the mist came. He made sure they all got away, but he… he stayed behind. He told me he had to protect the village and stop the monster from hurting anyone else."
"Your village..." I said "Was it near a cliff in the middle of a plains?"
Her eyes widened slightly, a flicker of desperate hope breaking through her grief. "Y-yes!" she stammered. "D-do you know what happened?"
"I killed the demon there," I told her as if re-assuring her "The village is safe now, you can go back if you want with the others"
"Th-thank you," she stammered, tears streaming down her face. "B-but what about my dad? What happened to him?"
I hesitated. 'I don't know.' And that was the worst answer I could give her.
"I'm not sure, sorry," I admitted.
The little fire in her eyes flickered out instantly, replaced by a hollow emptiness. I scrambled for something to say, anything to keep that spark from vanishing completely.
"He stayed behind to help the village, right?" I said, grasping onto what little hope I could offer. "That takes a lot of courage."
She swallowed hard, nodding.
"So… where are the villagers now?"
"They're all over there," she murmured, lifting a trembling hand toward the mountain I had come from.
I followed her gaze. "Oh… That village?" My brows furrowed. "But… why all the way out here?"
She only shrugged, shaking her head as if not knowing the reason. I frowned as I recalled the girl's words about her father.
Stayed behind, huh? That would explain why there was no body in the village.
My eyes narrowed. Something about that detail gnawed at me.
Only one person stayed behind…?
The thought lingered in the back of my mind, just out of reach. A puzzle piece that didn't quite fit.
Why does that feel wrong?
I frowned, sifting through my memories of the village. The empty streets. The unnatural decay. The complete lack of bodies. The mist had swallowed everything, leaving behind nothing but rot.
Nothing but—
My pulse quickened.
No. There was something. Someone.
There was one human still there.
My stomach sank like a stone.
No… No way…
The image of the human I killed during my last mission flashed through my mind—wild eyes, desperate and defiant, my body instinctively stabbing him through his neck because I thought he was a demon.
I had assumed he was a demon, driven mad by despair. I never thought…
He stayed behind to protect the village… to protect her.
My gut twisted painfully. The air seemed heavier, harder to breathe.
I glanced at the little girl. She stared at me with those wide, trusting eyes, waiting for a response I couldn't give.
'I was ready for the insults of the villagers, the accusations of his friends, the cries of a widow, and the rage of his parents. But, I was never ready for the innocent questions of the children
My throat tightened. I killed him… her father. There's no way I can tell her that.
I forced a smile, my hands tightening into fists behind my back. "He sounds like a really brave man."
The girl's eyes lit up, a flicker of hope sparking in them. "Yeah… he was."
I nodded slowly, swallowing the guilt that threatened to crush me. One lie. Just one more lie. For her sake.
"Let's find a way out of here," I said, standing up and offering her my hand. "I'll get you to safety."
She grabbed my hand without hesitation, holding on tightly. The same hand that was the reason her father was no longer alive in this world. In that moment, I vowed to her dead father that I was going to make sure she made her way safely back to her mother.
And just like that, I became her lifeline—the very person who tore her world apart.
'Maybe, I would make a good demon'
"Oh yes before I forget," I said, turning towards the little girl "Do you know what happened to the other children here?"
"Sorry," She said shaking her head. I gently patted her head, assuring her that it was no problem
After I calmed the little girl down, I searched around the broken mansion for any signs of the children she kidnapped before.
"By the way," I said while lifting off the rubble "Did you accidentally eat a part of the demon here?"
"H-huh?" She mumbled, clearly caught off guard by the question "I-i bit her when she tried to lift me, I don't know anything after that"
'That explains it' I thought 'She probably has the same type of ability as Genya. She probably ingested some of the demon's blood and turned into a demon, then later on she turned back human'
Eventually, I lifted the giant roof of the mansion which revealed a dip pit filled with sleeping children.
I looked at the children sleeping. Their eyes were constantly moving around behind their eyelids and their arms were constantly twitching, as if trying to wake up but unable to. Their cheeks were sunken as if they hadn't eaten for a long time.
I clenched my fists as my eyes burned in silent rage from seeing the state of these innocent children. For some reason, the demoness only liked collecting children but not eating them, perhaps she enjoyed the way they suffered instead.
'I hope that bitch burns in hell.'
"I-Isn't this really deep?" the little girl whispered, clutching my arm tighter making me take a deep breath, dispelling my rage. Her fingers trembled against my sleeve. "We can't just go down there! What if we fall? What if we can't get back up? We need to get the adults. They can figure out a way to get everyone out safely."
I gently pried her fingers off and stepped forward.
"I am an adult."
Before she could react, I jumped.
"W-WAIT—!"
Her panicked shriek echoed through the ruins as I dropped into the pit. I landed smoothly, barely making a sound, making sure not to disturb the children. Dust swirled around my feet as I straightened up, brushing off my clothes.
I looked up and gave her a small wave. "See? No problem."
She gawked at me, eyes wide with disbelief. Then—
"WH—WHAT?!" Her voice cracked as she practically flung herself over the edge, staring down at me in shock. "Are you crazy?! You can't just jump into a giant hole without saying anything! My heart almost stopped!"
She gripped her head, pacing in frantic little circles. "What if you broke your legs?! What if there was something dangerous down there?! What if you couldn't get out?! You're stuck now! What are you even gonna do?!"
"Ah," I said awkwardly, taking in the little girl's frantic shouting. I hadn't expected to be scolded—especially not by a child. "I'm sorry about that."
It was only then that I realized—right now, I was the only thing she had. The only sense of security, the only emotional support keeping her grounded after everything she'd been through. No wonder she was panicking.
'I really shouldn't be though'
"Don't worry about me," I said, brushing off the concern as I took a slow look around the pit. The air was thick with the stale scent of damp earth, and the only sounds were the quiet breaths of the sleeping children. My nose twitched as I coughed from the stale air.
You know how you enter those dirty areas which makes your nose hair tickle, like an abandoned school full of bacteria and mold or a college building filled with fungus which gives you a terrible sickness? That's how this area felt.
And the children here were breathing in that terrible air.
I exhaled slowly, my stomach knotting as I glanced at their frail, slumbering forms. How long had they been down here, inhaling this filth? Days? Weeks? Their cheeks were hollow, their skin stretched too tightly over their bones.
They were curled up in little groups, clinging to each other, pressing close for warmth like they'd figured out early on that body heat was all they had left. Some of them had their fingers twisted in whatever scraps of cloth they could find—probably holding onto each other in their sleep, just to make sure no one disappeared overnight.
Even in their sleep, their faces were drawn tight, their ribs visible beneath their tattered clothes, their skin pale and stretched too thin over their bones. They looked as if they hadn't eaten in days—maybe even weeks—just barely clinging to life, their shallow breaths the only proof they were still here at all.
I took a slow step forward, careful not to make too much noise. The last thing I wanted was to startle them awake in a panic. My eyes landed on a boy near the edge of the pit, curled in on himself, his arms wrapped tightly around his chest as if he was trying to hold in whatever warmth he had left.
"Hey, hey—easy," I said quickly, raising my hands to show I wasn't a threat. "I'm not here to hurt you. You're safe."
The boy's breathing was uneven, his eyes darting around in confusion. His arms shook as he tried to push himself up, but he was too weak, collapsing back onto the dirt. His lips parted, as if to say something, but no words came out.
Then, behind him, another child shifted. A faint rustling spread through the pit as the others slowly began to stir. A girl let out a soft whimper, rubbing at her tired eyes. A weak cough came from somewhere in the back. The children were waking up, blinking in the dim light, their thin bodies shivering from the cold air pressing against them.
Some of them instinctively curled closer together, their fingers clutching at each other's sleeves like lifelines. Others stared at me, bleary and uncertain, their gazes flicking between my face and the trembling boy in front of me.
The boy swallowed hard, his bony fingers curling into fists. Even though he could barely sit up, he forced himself to stay upright, his sunken eyes locked onto mine. His lips trembled, but when he finally spoke, his voice was just loud enough to be heard.
"W-who are you…?"
"Relax" I muttered raising my hand, which prompted a jolt from the boys in the front "I'm here to bring you guys back to the village"
The boy hesitated, his fingers twitching slightly. He glanced back at the others as if measuring their reactions. The younger ones clung to each other, eyes darting between him and me.
"A-and how can we trust you?" he asked again, his voice still steady despite the slight shake in his stance. He raised his arm in front of the group like a flimsy shield, as if he alone could stop me if I tried anything.
I smothered a chuckle before it could slip out. Even in a situation like this, the kid had a presence. The way the others looked at him—boys with quiet respect, girls with hesitant admiration—it was clear he was the one they all turned to.
'Well, isn't he a little charmer,' I mused despite the weight of the moment. 'He's basically got the respect of the entire village at this point. Maybe he'll grow up to be a harem protagonist.'
"It's okay,"a voice from above said, her voice steady despite everything she had been through. "He saved us."
The shift was almost instant. Where there had been hesitation and fear just moments ago, now there was only relief—like a collective exhale they had all been holding in.
The thin-framed boy glanced upward toward the pit's edge, his eyes searching for the girl who had spoken. Even though she wasn't down here with them, just the sound of her voice was enough. It was like she had flipped a switch.
The others followed his gaze, their expressions softening. Some of the younger ones clung to each other, still groggy from sleep, while a few of the older boys straightened their backs, as if embarrassed by their earlier fear. The tension that had gripped them loosened, replaced by something dangerously close to hope.
I flicked my eyes up to the girl standing at the pit's edge. Even from here, she carried herself with a quiet authority, her voice alone enough to sway them. They trusted her completely.
That was all it took. Instantly, the children's wariness melted away. Their trust in her was absolute. It was clear there was a hierarchy among them, and at the very top stood the village chief's daughter.
"He—he's a samurai!" the girl called down from above, her voice firm despite everything she'd been through. "He used a sword and killed the demon who brought us all here."
The children flinched, their fear momentarily replaced with something else—confusion, disbelief... and hope. Even the boy in front, the one standing between me and the others, stiffened. His thin fingers clenched at his sides, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard.
"A... samurai?" he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper.
I could see the weight of that word settling over them, see the way it made them hesitate. Right. Even though the samurai class had been abolished years ago, their legend had never faded. To these kids, raised on the stories of noble warriors who protected the weak and upheld justice, the word still meant something.
(A/N- the Samurai class was abolished in 1876. Demon Slayer takes place after 1912 in the Taisho Era where carrying swords in public was forbidden, except if you were a part of the police or some army. Guns were usually used in this era)
I wasn't really a samurai. Not in the way their parents and grandparents would have known. But I carried a sword, and I had cut down the demon who imprisoned them here. That was enough.
"If that helps you trust me," I said, meeting the thin boy's wide eyes, "then yeah. I am."
Their wariness didn't vanish completely, but the tension in their shoulders eased. That was enough for now.
I exhaled, shifting my stance. No need to waste any more time down here. I offered my hand to the boy who took it cautiously Bending my knees slightly, I took a breath and launched myself upward. The air rushed past me as I cleared the pit's edge in a single leap, landing lightly on my feet beside the girl.
She jumped, eyes wide, taking a half-step back as if unsure whether to be amazed or afraid. "H-how did you—?"
I brushed some dirt off my haori, giving her a quick, reassuring smile. "I'll explain later," I said, crouching down again. "Stay back."
The children below were still staring up at me, their mouths slightly open. Some of the younger ones clutched at each other, whispering in hushed voices. A few of the older ones glanced at the thin boy.
I didn't wait for an answer. With a single breath, I leaped down again, landing softly on the damp earth. A few of the children yelped, scrambling back instinctively. One of the little ones gasped, eyes round as saucers.
"Y-you're like a bird!" he whispered, voice tinged with awe.
"Caw Caw" I chuckled, ruffling his hair before scooping him up. "Hold on tight."
His tiny arms wrapped around my neck, trembling slightly, but there was no resistance. With a push, I launched us both into the air. The wind rushed past us, and he let out a startled squeak before clamping his mouth shut. When we landed, he looked at me, then down at the ground, then back at me again, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and sheer excitement.
"That was—" He stopped himself, blinking rapidly, then turned to the other children still trapped below. "H-he's actually gonna get us out!"
As if those words were a signal, the tension in the pit shifted. Whispers turned into murmurs, murmurs into hopeful shouts.
"He can do it!"
"We're really getting out?"
"He's not a samurai, he's a tengu!"
I smirked at that last one but didn't correct them. If it made this easier for them, they could think of me as whatever they wanted.
I dropped back down, reaching for the next child, an older boy who hesitated for a moment before gripping my arm. He was trying to act brave, but the way his fingers trembled against my sleeve told another story.
"You trust me?" I asked, meeting his eyes.
He swallowed, nodding stiffly.
"Good," I said. "Then hold on."
With that, I lifted him, his arms locking around me like a vice, and soared upward. The moment we landed, he stumbled slightly, staring at his hands as if unable to believe what had just happened.
"Whoa…" he breathed. Then, turning back toward the pit, he shouted, "It's real! He's really getting us out!"
That was all it took.
One by one, the children reached for me without hesitation, their fear gradually replaced with something brighter. Hope.
And so, I carried them out, over and over again, until not a single one remained in that wretched hole.
...
...
...
As soon as we reached the village, the night exploded with noise. People stumbled out of their homes, groggy and confused, their faces twisted in half-formed memories of something they couldn't quite grasp. Murmurs filled the air—questions, prayers, disbelief—until a single voice shattered the fog.
"THE CHILDREN—!"
(A/N- Imagine COD zombies)
And then it was chaos.
Fathers and mothers tore through the streets, eyes wild, searching. Their feet slapped against the dirt, hands trembling as they reached for the small figures I had led back.
I have to admit, at that time I was scared shitless as I saw hundreds of people erupt in a dash with a crazed look on their faces right towards me. I was half tempted to just run away at that moment.
Nevertheless, the moment they saw them, their children—alive, breathing—everything else fell away.
Sobs, gasps, broken laughter. Parents clutched their sons and daughters like they would disappear if they let go. Some fell to their knees, shaking too hard to stand, whispering prayers of gratitude. Others cried openly, faces buried in tangled hair, arms wrapped tight as if they could shield them from ever being taken again.
The kids barely had the strength to react. Some just stood there, frozen, too exhausted to even process what was happening. Others wept into their parents' chests, their tiny hands clutching at fabric, at skin—at proof that this was real.
A woman pushed through the crowd, her breath ragged, steps unsteady. Her long, dark hair was loose and tangled, strands clinging to her damp face. She was young—maybe a year or two older than me—but the exhaustion in her deep-set eyes made her look much older. Her kimono, once elegant, was now wrinkled and slightly disheveled, the obi hastily tied as if she had dressed in a hurry.
Her breath hitched when she spotted the little girl. For a second, she just stood there, as if making sure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her. Then, without a word, she rushed forward and dropped to her knees, pulling the child into her arms.
She fell to her knees, arms wrapping so tightly around the child that I wondered if she'd ever let go.
The little girl beside me barely had time to react before the woman fell to her knees and pulled her into a crushing embrace. The child let out a small gasp, but any protest was lost beneath the woman's choked sobs. She clung to the girl as if afraid she'd vanish again, pressing frantic kisses into her hair. Her whole body trembled, her relief too raw, too overwhelming for words.
Someone nearby murmured, "The chief's wife…"
Ah. That explained it.
Finally, she looked up at me, her tear-streaked face full of emotion she couldn't yet put into words.
For a moment, she just stared at me, her lips parted like she wanted to say something—needed to—but couldn't find the words. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard, blinking rapidly against the fresh wave of tears pooling in her eyes.
Then, finally, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said, "Thank you."
The murmurs spread quickly through the crowd, parents clutching their children as they bowed deeply, their voices overlapping in tearful gratitude.
"Thank you!"
"You saved my son!"
"How can we ever repay you?"
I stood there, stiff as a board, feeling like I'd rather be back in the mansion fighting with my life on the line than do anything socially related.
I had never been thanked like this before. Never been looked at like this—with awe, with relief, with something uncomfortably close to admiration. I was used to being mocked by my family and being ignored by everyone else. The embarrassment I was feeling was out of this world.
And then, to make it worse, the frail-looking boy from before tugged at his father's sleeve, his voice rising with excitement.
"You should have seen him! He was like a Tengu—he moved so fast and jumped so high! I'm gonna be like him one day!"
A few of the villagers chuckled, some even nodding in agreement. I felt my face heat up.
I wanted to dig a hole right there and disappear into it.
The chief's wife wiped at her eyes, composing herself as best she could despite the exhaustion weighing down her features. She turned to me, still sniffling but with a newfound steadiness in her gaze.
"You must be tired," she said gently. "Please, come inside. At least for a meal. It's the least we can do after all you've done for us."
I opened my mouth, ready to decline, but the little girl—her daughter—was still holding onto the hem of my sleeve, her fingers curled around the fabric like she wasn't ready to let go just yet. The frail boy was also watching me expectantly, along with a few other children, their eyes still wide with lingering admiration.
I sighed through my nose. It would be rude to refuse at this point.
"...Alright," I muttered.
The villagers began to disperse, some guiding their children home, others still exchanging relieved murmurs. I followed the woman toward a modest yet well-kept house, stepping inside as she motioned for me to sit. The warmth of the hearth made the exhaustion settle heavier in my limbs, though I forced myself to stay alert.
After a simple meal, the little girl's energy had waned. Her mother scooped her up, murmuring soft words as she carried her to the back room. I could hear the faint rustling of blankets, the quiet hum of reassurance.
And then, silence.
When she returned, the atmosphere had shifted. She hesitated for a moment before taking a seat across from me, her hands folded in her lap. Her earlier relief had dimmed, replaced by something heavier.
She took a slow breath. "My husband..." she started, voice barely above a whisper. "Did you—" She stopped herself, shaking her head. "No. I should ask properly."
Her eyes met mine, filled with a quiet plea.
"Do you know what happened to him?"