Atop the suspended house, Zenitsu's breathing grew shallow, his chest rising and falling in painful rhythm. The poison had already spread through most of his body, and even with his Thunder Breathing slowing it, his arms and legs had begun to wither—thin and lifeless, like branches drained of sap. The burning pain coursing through his veins felt endless, but worse was the heaviness pressing on his lungs. Every inhale was a battle.
Below, the freed Demon Slayers—those whom he had saved—looked up at the trembling house, their faces stricken with fear and gratitude. They wanted to help, but none could reach him.
Zenitsu managed a weak smile, his thoughts turning to Nezuko. "I'm sorry, Nezuko-chan… guess I couldn't show you how cool I can be after all…" His voice cracked as his vision blurred. He thought of Tanjiro, Inosuke, and his master's stern yet kind eyes.
"Don't give up."
That single phrase echoed in his mind—his teacher's voice, as sharp as lightning splitting the sky.
He clenched his teeth, forcing another breath, refusing to die.
Then, something light and graceful entered his fading sight—a butterfly. Moments later, Shinobu landed softly beside him, smiling gently.
"Moshi moshi," she said, tilting her head. "Are you alright?"
•••
Tanjiro looked at me with wide eyes, his expression a mix of awe and disbelief. His chest rose and fell, still catching his breath after the chaos we'd just endured. The scent of blood, ash, and lingering demon miasma hung heavy in the air. His hands trembled slightly as he held his sword, still faintly glowing from the battle.
"You fight… differently," he said finally, his voice tinged with curiosity. "You're strong, Alastor-san. Where are you from?"
I brushed the dust off my coat and gave him a small smile before extending my hand, his blade balanced carefully in my palm. "I'm from the North," I replied, handing the sword back to him. He accepted it reverently, bowing his head slightly in thanks.
"The North?" he repeated, clearly intrigued. "That's pretty far from here. What brings you to Mount Natagumo?"
"I'm thinking of joining the Demon Slayer Corps," I said casually, watching the faint surprise flicker across his face. "Do you think I can get in?"
Tanjiro blinked at me, almost laughing. "With your strength? You could easily become a Demon Slayer… maybe even a Hashira."
I chuckled softly.
Before I could respond, a sudden thud behind us drew our attention. Tanjiro whipped around, his face turning pale. Inosuke lay sprawled on the ground, his boar mask tilted sideways, snoring loudly.
"Inosuke!" Tanjiro shouted, rushing over and kneeling beside him. He checked the wild boy's breathing and pulse, relief washing over him as he sighed. "He's just… sleeping?"
I walked over, glancing down at the unconscious boar-headed slayer. "Looks like his injuries finally caught up to him," I said calmly. "He must've pushed himself too far during the fight."
Tanjiro nodded, concern etching into his features. "He fought so hard… he always does."
Kneeling down, I helped Tanjiro move Inosuke off the hard ground. We found a spot beneath a cluster of trees, where the forest canopy shielded him from the harsh sunlight. The scent of earth and sap mixed with the faint iron tang of blood as we carefully covered him with a pile of soft leaves.
"He'll wake up angry if he sees this," Tanjiro said with a small laugh, wiping sweat from his brow.
"Probably," I replied, a faint grin tugging at my lips. "Let's just hope he doesn't think it's an ambush."
Tanjiro chuckled, his laughter light but weary. "Yeah… that sounds like him."
We placed a small marker nearby—a simple stone stacked with two twigs forming an 'X', a sign to find him again later. Then, with one last glance at our resting comrade, Tanjiro straightened his back and turned toward the misty trail ahead.
"Let's keep moving," he said quietly. "There might still be people who need our help."
~~~