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Chapter Text

What… happened?
That was the first thought that came to Tanjiro as he regained consciousness.They had been on a mission, right? Him, Inosuke, and Zenitsu? (And Nezuko, but Tanjiro never counted his precious baby sister towards mission counts. If he had it his way, she wouldn’t ever leave her box when there were other demons nearby.)

That weird Hashira, the one who had tried taking Aoi from the Butterfly Estate, had ‘sold’ them to houses in the Red Light District so they could find out what happened to his wives. (Wives, plural. Tanjiro liked to think of himself as open minded and accepting of everyone, but that concept was a little hard for him to wrap his mind around. He supposed he could blame his small countryside origins for that.)

Tanjiro remembered how he barely managed to get taken by one of the houses, and he remembered the guilt he felt at their horror when they wiped his makeup off. ‘Such a large scar!’ The madam of the house exclaimed, and he couldn’t help but apologize over and over. To make up for their deception, he kept his head down and worked ten times as hard in his cleaning and prep duties.

Then, very late his first night there, almost the morning of the next day, the prized girl of the house asked to speak with him privately. Well, she hadn’t asked him herself. Rather, one of the little girls that tended to her did in her stead, and he eagerly agreed. The last thing he remembered was the horrific smell that hit his nose as the door to her room slid open. Then… well, that led him to now.

His face was pressed into a tatami floor, unable to be lifted from the surface because of the way his arms were tightly bound behind his back. Despite the fact that his eyes were open, he could see nothing, telling him that he was also blindfolded.

The familiarity of the situation reminded him of that day at the Ubuyashiki estate, when he first met the different Hashira and Oyakata-sama himself. That meeting had started with so much fear in his heart for his dear little sister, and ended with hope making his heart soar, because the leader of the Demon Slayer Corps believed in them. He believed, just like Tanjiro did, that Nezuko would never hurt a human being and she deserved a chance to live. Without the man’s faith in them, his sister would probably not be here today… and, honestly? Neither would he. The grief of losing the final living member of his family, after he had done so much to try and save her, would have shattered his soul irreparably. To continue on after that would have been impossible…

Thankfully, it did not turn out that way, and his baby sister is safe in the care of the Sound Hashira, which was more than he could say for himself. While the situation reminded him of that day long ago, Tanjiro knew that whatever was going on here did not bode well for him. Even if his memories before waking up here weren’t shoddy at best, the smell assaulting his nose would have had him on edge anyway. Blood and death… something that he had long come to associate with the demons roaming around that he slayed.

There was another scent there, though. One that he swore to never forget after that fateful day in the mountains. One that he was reaccustomed to in Asakusa, when he got to see the monster with his own eyes. The monster who took almost his entire family from him and tried to turn his precious little sister into a vicious demon like him: Kibutsuji Muzan. The recognition of the scent sent a chill through his spine.

‘Does that mean… I’ve been captured?’ He wasn’t sure what would kill him first: the shame, or the fear.

“I see you have finally awoken.” The voice, somehow so similar and yet so different to the one in Asakusa, came from somewhere in front of him. Tanjiro attempted to turn his face, still pressed into the mat below him, towards the source.

“Muzan!” He growled, only earning him a dark chuckle in return.

Slow, purposeful steps made their way towards him, until he could feel the mat shift under additional weight. That scent of death and wrongness he associated with the monster was overpowering now. He was tempted to switch to breathing through his mouth just to avoid it, but a rational part had him keeping it firmly shut. Who knew what the demon would shove into his open mouth? The fact that he wasn’t sure if the demon’s blood was the worst thing only made his fear grow a little. That thought made the chill running through him worse. What other reason could there be for his continued survival? If that did happen, he would fight it, just like Nezuko did. He wouldn’t give that monster the satisfaction of taking his humanity from him like that!

“I have to admit,” the monster started, dragging him away from his own thoughts. “When I first saw you that night in Asakusa, I had written you off as another vengeful pest that would perish the moment you came face to face with a stronger servant of mine.”

His leather dress shoe, something Tanjiro never even knew existed until he became a demon slayer, stepped on his head, pressing him firmly into the mats below them. “So I will admit that I was annoyingly surprised to learn that not only did you manage to survive your encounter in the city, but you even managed to defeat both of the demons I sent after you.”

The foot stomped down harder, making uncomfortable pressure build in his head. Tanjiro held back his moan of pain. He wouldn’t give that monster the satisfaction of hearing his discomfort.

“Begrudgingly, I conceded that I underestimated you,” he continued, finally lifting the foot from his head, “but I still was not worried. What I saw through my subservient’s eyes was nothing impressive, and I knew the moment you came across true strength in the form of one of my Kizuki, you would meet your end…”

Pain radiated through Tanjiro’s skull as his foot stomped down hard on his head. “Except, you didn’t. While fighting Rui, back on Mount Natagumo, not only did you manage to hold your own against him, but you would have managed to behead him had he not done it to himself first. Then against Enmu, you did manage to sever his head, after you had, multiple times, escaped his demon blood art.”

Once again the foot was removed, but the relief was short lived. His neck was grabbed in a tight hold, and he was lifted up into the air. With his hands tied behind his back, he had no way to even slightly relieve the tightness and pressure building in his neck and shoulders. A pounding headache was starting to bud from everything, and Tanjiro wished for nothing more than to have his blade here so he could behead this bastard.

Unfortunately, he didn’t even have it before he was taken. All three of them had left their personal effects with Mr. Uzui, including Nezuko and her box. He was nearby, after all. If there was any trouble, he could intervene and protect them while they armed themselves. That's what was supposed to happen, at least. Tanjiro couldn’t help but wonder if a fight had taken place, or if he had been snuck out of the house and district. He also couldn’t decide which option he preferred. The idea that one of his colleagues, or worse, friends, were injured because of him shattered his heart.
‘Don’t get yourself upset, Tanjiro! They’re fine!’ He reassured himself. Muzan must have noticed his attention was drifting and didn’t like it, because suddenly his hand was clenching down on his throat. Tanjiro couldn’t help the choked noise of panic he made as his airway was closed.

“Even with just that, I could have written you off as insignificant,” the monster continued, giving his neck another soft squeeze, “after all, you wouldn’t be the first, and, if I hadn’t dealt with them all myself, probably not the last either, to kill one of my lower moons.”

The grip increased once again, and Tanjiro wished desperately that his hands were free so he could try and pry the vice around his neck off. As it was, the most he could do was kick his legs out to try and hit the man.

“However,” the man said, and then Tanjiro was suddenly dropped, ungracefully falling to the floor with a thud. “Something that makes you more than just an annoyance to me is that breath style of yours. One that I had not seen in hundreds of years.”

‘Breath style… does he mean the Hinokami Kagura?! How does he know about that?!’

“If you gained full mastery over it, there’s a possibility that you could become a threat to even me… and we cannot have that.”

A hand grabbed a fistful of his hair, and Tanjiro was dragged up by his hair into a kneeling position. He blinked quickly under the blindfold to disperse the tears that popped up from the pain. “When Daki informed me of a ‘hideous girl with Hanafuda earrings and a facial scar’, I was tempted to order her to just quietly dispose of you and be done with it, but I realized that in the long run that would have been more detrimental to me than keeping you alive. After all, it seems Yoriichi has already reincarnated in the form of you; I can’t risk you doing the same later down the line when I am not expecting it.”

“No,” he continued, releasing his grip and, surprisingly, gently smoothing over the hair he just pulled, “I think it will be more beneficial if I keep you right next to me, where I can always have an eye on you.”

Dread gripped down on his heart as he realized his fear was correct. Muzan planned on turning him into a demon, just like Nezuko. However, Tanjiro didn’t despair. Just like what he thought earlier, he would fight the monster’s control and keep some semblance of his humanity, again like his dear sister. He would never let the demon who killed their family win. He would fight until he took his very last breath if that’s what it took. It was still scary to think about, but he managed to calm his mind and even out his breathing. Something else he wouldn’t give the other the benefit of was seeing how fearful he was of what he was threatening to do.

There was a curious hum, and then light blinded him. He blinked a few times until his eyes adjusted, then quickly took in his surroundings. If he went off just the area he was resting on, he would almost think he was in a normal traditional estate, with the expensive looking accents and decorations.

That’s where the normalcy ended. Instead of being in a large room, they were almost floating in the air on a tatami floor. Floors and walls and sliding doors floated around them, with seemingly no rhyme or reason to their position. While he was glad he was nowhere near the edge of their platform, he almost wished he was just so he could also look down to see if it continued like that below.

“You seem awfully calm for a slayer who was just told what I imagine is your worst nightmare,” the demon taunted, pulling his attention back to the other in front of him.

Just like what he remembered from that day, Muzan Kibutsuji wore a modern outfit and leather shoes, although this time he wore black and did not have his hat. The man’s unnatural eyes almost glowed as he stared down at him, like he was a pest that just wandered in unwelcome. Something about it had his fighting spirit rising to the surface.

“It doesn’t matter if you turn me into a demon,” he dismissed with a glare of his own, “because I’ll fight off your influence and keep my humanity, just like Nezuko did.”

The bastard barely hesitated, before letting off a short laugh. “Right, that pesky rogue you kept on you in that box…” He chuckled again, before moving even closer to Tanjiro, casting his shadow over the boy. “I will admit that rogue’s actions have come as quite the shock to me,” he shared, circling around him like a predator about to attack its prey. 

“Even though I barely gave her a few drops of my blood, I never expected her to survive the transformation. So the fact that she not only did, but somehow has become more powerful than some of my former lower moons who had a far higher quantity is something I would almost consider impressive, if I were not infuriated over the mere notion of it. All of that power, and not a single drop of human blood ingested all of this time.”

“I can’t help but wonder, though,” he continued, pausing his movement behind him, “is this strange power something that is unique to her, specifically? Or… perhaps it is something that came about because of her genetics. If that is the case-” A cold hand gripped the back of his neck as the demon stepped right behind him. His legs brushed against Tanjirou’s back and shoulders as he guided him to kneel straighter and taller in front of him. “-I wonder how much stronger the elder brother of such a demon could become under the guidance of the Lord himself.”

The implication of what the monster wanted, of what he planned to do, was enough to send bile rushing up his throat and into his mouth. In all of his life, there had only been one time where he tasted human blood that was not his own. Back before most of his younger siblings existed, when Nezuko was just a little baby, he had grown extremely ill. Even back then they had been very poor, so unfortunately his parents couldn’t afford the medicine he needed, so the most they could do was keep him cool and pray. In his delirious, feverish state, he hallucinated a monster was trying to grab him, so he did what any scared child would do: he clamped his teeth down into its appendage. What was that ‘monster’ turned out to be his father trying to wipe away his sweat with a cloth, but Tanjirou wouldn’t know this until his fever broke a day or so later when he saw the bandages on his hand. What he did know, and was something he would never forget, was the reason he released his grip at that time, which was the absolutely disgusting tasting liquid that filled his mouth. The best comparison he had was that it tasted like rusty metal smelt, but that didn’t do the absolute foul secondary taste justice. It was weird to say that he preferred the smell to the taste, but he absolutely did. He was very careful to avoid experiencing that taste again, going so far as to even avoid tasting his own blood or that of an animal so he would not be reminded of it.

Now, though, it might as well be what was filling his mouth instead of his own stomach contents. He could imagine the taste so vividly, and it caused his stomach to churn even more. Tanjirou forced himself to swallow, then turned his head to glare up at the figure looming over him.

“I will never consume a person,” he promised, “and I will never serve you. I will fight you until the day one of us takes our last breath.”

The demon smiled, his amused smirk matched with his piercing eyes sending a chill straight through his entire body. “We will see about that.”

A “bwing” sound, like a string being strum, echoed in the room, and then Tanjirou was falling. 

Chapter Text

For a moment, Tanjirou was weightless as the ground disappeared from under him. Then he was literally crashing into a new room, bouncing off the tatami floor unceremoniously and landing face down. Pain radiated from his shoulders as he just laid there, a low groan escaping from him. His bound arms, still trapped behind his back, protested the way his body landed and tugged on the joints.

‘Thankfully not dislocated, though,’ he thought, relieved when his shoulders still responded to his command of motion. That problem being solved meant he could focus on his next one: just where did Muzan send him?

He managed to lift his head to take a look, and was greeted with a plain, paneled wall. Turning his head left and right showed a similar image. Dread was already building in his chest as he pushed and maneuvered himself onto his side so that he could see the remaining wall. The sight of the final plain, doorless, wall solidified his situation to him. He was completely, and utterly, trapped. Even if his arms were not bound and he had his sword, he would probably be unable to escape. With what he had seen before, and with a demon art like the one that sent him to this room, it’s not entirely impossible that this room was in the middle of a maze of rooms just like it. It may even be possible that this room existed in a plane of existence of its own, with no real way in or out except for that demon’s blood art, like that first demon he faced with Nezuko all that time ago.

His head started spinning thinking of the possibilities, so he let the subject drop for the moment. He took a moment to instead lay there on his side and rest. The pain in his shoulders was starting to recede, and he was ever thankful for his mom for gifting him with his hard head, because there was barely any soreness from where the demon stepped on him earlier. All things considered, for being face to face with the Demon Lord himself, Tanjirou came out relatively unscathed. For now, at least. He was still human, too. That fact was something that should have come as a great relief, but instead only dread pooled in his gut. Muzan practically gloated about how he planned to turn him into a monster and use him. It didn’t seem like he was lying to scare him, or at least he didn’t smell any hint of deceit in his words. So what reason could he have for leaving him here and still human?

Tanjirou shook his head. He couldn’t focus on that monster’s motives right now. There were more pressing matters to attend to, like getting his hands unbound from behind him and getting himself off the floor. Unfortunately, the bare room didn’t offer any solutions for the first problem, so he would have to find a way to stand up without his arms. It took a couple minutes of flopping and squirming around, but he managed to get first his knees, and then his feet under him and stand. As he did, he got a look of the outfit he was wearing, and he could feel his face start to warm just the slightest bit.

‘I’m still in the ladies kimono Mr. Uzui got us…’

It would make sense that he was, it wasn’t like he had the time to change before being kidnapped and everything, but it didn’t make the creeping embarrassment any better. The demon progenitor, the monster he swore to kill to fix his sister, saw him like this. While he absolutely did not care about the opinion of such a beast, he still couldn’t help but wonder what the man thought when he saw him like this. Probably nothing kind. There was nothing he could do to change that, or anything about this, right now though.

Instead he turned his focus on the room he was trapped in, looking for anything he might have missed during his first quick glance. Tanjirou approached the wall he was currently facing and slowly walked along it from corner to corner. He gently tapped and dragged his foot against it to see if there was a secret exit he couldn’t easily see. His heart dropped a little when he reached the other side with nothing to show for it. With a sigh, he turned his attention to the adjacent wall and continued. His disappointment only grew as he found nothing yet again.

It was only when he was almost across the third wall that he finally discovered something. As his foot tapped a section of the wall, there was the ever slightest echo that had his eyes shooting wide. Carefully, he balanced on his right foot as he tapped his left against that section of the wall and the one next to it. He grew excited as he heard the difference between the two areas, and he quickly moved in on the panel that was different. ‘That sound means it must be hollow on the other side! Which means that there has to be some way to remove this piece of wall! I just have to find it!’

Tanjirou looked along the edge of the panel, starting at eye level and slowly moving himself down to the ground. He held his breath as he looked along where the wall met the floor, and silently cheered when he saw the tiniest of gaps between the floor and wall. Now he just needed to figure out how to get the panel off to see what was on the other side. He at first tried using his foot to slip through the space and knock it off, but the gap was too small, and he couldn’t get any leverage with what did fit through. That made him pause with a pout. ‘With how my hands are bound, I’m not sure I’ll be able to use them here either. So how-’

A similar “bwing” sound echoed in the room, followed by the sound of steps walking closer to him. Tanjirou quickly rolled to face into the room, and his eyes narrowed into a glare when he saw the person, or rather monster, standing there. Muzan blankly stared down at him, the faintest edge of curiosity and, embarrassingly, amusement, adorning his face. A small smirk broke out on his face as he continued to silently watch him for another moment or two. Being observed like this was stressful enough, but when he remembered what he was wearing again, that blush returned with a vengeance.

“Why are you just standing there?!” He snapped, trying to distract from how his face was fully tinted red now.

The man’s eyes shut as he let out a quiet chuckle. “I’ll concede that I didn’t expect you to find the wash closet by yourself,” he said calmly, before stepping towards him. He stopped next to him, and his red eyes pierced him as he stared down at him. Then he started reaching at him, and Tanjirou couldn’t help but flinch as the clawed hand came towards him.

There was no pain, though. Instead, his arms became loose as their bindings slipped away. Tanjirou opened his eyes just as the hand receded, and he stared in shock as he pulled his arms around to look at his now freed hands. There were dull red marks along his skin where the bindings tightly held his arms, but otherwise they were unscathed. In fact, his shoulders felt so much better now that his limbs returned to a normal position. He testingly clenched his fingers into balls and took a moment to roll his shoulders out.

The figure next to him moved, and he stopped his actions to quickly scurry back, pushing back on his feet so he would roll backwards and land in a crouched position. He kept his clenched hands close to his sides, ready to fight even without his sword. Muzan ignored him, though. The man barely spared him an amused glance as he stepped next to the hollow panel and easily pulled it off the wall through a larger gap near the top. With ease he placed the fixture to the side, revealing to the room the sound of trickling water from within.

“Humans are such weak, needy creatures,” the demon stated, as though it were a simple fact of life. “There are demons who have been subjected to the wisteria prisons you slayers have made for decades without experiencing a drop of blood , and yet they still live. But if you withhold something as simple as water from a human for about three days, they will perish from dehydration. Quite sad, if you think about it.”

The mocking edge that came into his tone sent a shock of anger through Tanjirou’s chest. “You’re wrong,” he argued, his eyes narrowing as he met the demon’s plain gaze, “humans are not weak. Day in and day out, we fight against your kind, and despite the abilities and enhancements that they possess that we don’t, we still win.”

His determination grew as the man’s eyes narrowed into a glare. “Even if you keep me trapped here forever, I will never stop fighting you, just like how the other slayers will never give up. We will fight until our last breath to keep people safe from you and you’re kind.” T

anjirou slowed his breathing as he silently glared down the other. The only sound in the room was the trickling water, whose source he still did not know of. For a few quiet seconds, the man just silently reciprocated his glare. But then, Muzan spoke.

“Until your final breath, you say?” He questioned with a curious hum. Then he got a sinister glint in his eyes as he continued. “Just like that Hashira that my Upper Three killed?”

Tanjirou moved before he even fully comprehended what was said. He screamed in rage as he lunged at the taller figure, planning on pulling him in close so he could headbutt him. That is not what happened. One moment the man was in front of him, and the next all he saw was the floor as a foot pressed him down hard. His skull throbbed with pain as the pressure increased.

“Do you want to know how they recommend training especially unruly dogs?” It was clear he did not want an answer, as the foot keeping his face pressed into the floor did not let up at all. Sure enough, he kept speaking without a response.

“They recommend praising and rewarding the good behavior-” Tanjirou couldn’t help the cry that escaped from him as his foot lifted slightly and stomped down onto his head. “-and severely punishing all the bad behavior.”

Finally, the foot moved away, and he was freed. The aching of his skull prevented him from moving right away, though. Instead, he panted as he tried to calm his breathing to dull the pain shooting through his head. Muzan stepped to the side so that he was within his sightline. He gave a mocking smile as he stared back at him. “I would have thought it would go without saying, but attacking your master is very bad, and will be harshly punished in the future.”

His words struck a sour chord within him, and Tanjirou wasn’t sure if it was the anger or dread that was making his heart start to race. “You are not my mast-"

Before he could finish his statement, he was dangling in the air by his neck as a strong hand held him there. “Oh, you are quite mistaken,” the demon practically purred, giving his neck a squeeze. Tanjirou’s hands raced up to the monster’s arm, and he desperately grabbed at it to try and pull it off him, but the man didn’t even blink.

“Your life rests solely in my hands now. If I wanted to, I could snap your neck right now and be done with you for at least another few centuries,” he continued, his smile growing with a sick, twisted glee etched into it. “Perhaps I should make it more obvious that you are nothing more than my pet now. Should I put a little collar on you and pull you around by a leash? Or maybe I should break your ankles so you are forced to crawl around on all fours, just like a dog.”

“Because that’s all you are to me now, Kamado,” he mocked, releasing his grip and letting him fall to the floor, “a pest that I plan on shaping and molding into the perfect, undyingly loyal follower of mine. When I am done with you, you will be begging me to share my blood.”

A cold, icy feeling slithered its way into his chest, encircling and squeezing down on his heart. “Th-that- that w-won’t-”

His hands trembled, and as he tried to push himself up onto his knees, his arms slipped out from beneath him and he crashed down to the ground. Before he could try again, hands grabbed him below his arms and pulled him up, until he was weakly resting on his knees. “I suggest you familiarize yourself with your room, because I have a feeling you will be here for quite a while.”

He then petted his head in a quick, precise moment, before disappearing from the room with another ‘bwing’. A beat passed, before Tanjirou felt his face heating up. ‘Did-did he just pet me?!’

His blush grew furiously as he felt the top of his head. How incredibly embarrassing! The warmth that usually built in his chest when he received such affection from his friends and family was noticeably absent. Instead, a weird feeling curled in his chest, mixing with that cold feeling from earlier in a way that unsettled his stomach. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what the demon had in store for him, but he knew deep down in his heart and soul that it was nothing good. This was going to be a battle unlike anything he’s ever experienced before.

As Tanjirou dryly swallowed and looked out into the plain room, he prayed to have the strength he needed going forward.

Chapter Text

It was pitch black out as Tanjirou ran through the woods. He didn’t remember why he was running, but he knew if he stopped, something bad would happen, so he kept going. His chest ached as he panted roughly, gasping as he pushed forward. He jumped around a large tree blocking his way, and nearly screamed when he saw someone on the other side. When he saw who it was, his fear switched to joy.

“Dad!” He exclaimed, running into the man’s side and wrapping his arms around his waist. After a moment, he felt his dad’s large, thin hand make its way through his hair.

“Oh, Tanjirou,” he said, sounding somber and sad. Before he could question it, his dad turned and hugged him. “I need you to be brave and strong, Tanjirou. No matter what happens, you need to hold on to yourself. Do not let him destroy your kind soul. Do not-”

“Dad? What are you talking ab-”

His heart stopped as a new voice spoke from behind him, sending a chill down through his entire chest. “There you are my pet. I was wondering where you had run off to.”

Suddenly, his dad was gone. His arms closed around empty air, and he was alone as he turned to face the voice. He started to shake as he saw the red eyes focused on him, their glowing making them the only thing visible in the dark. The way they slightly narrowed told him the monster was smiling, though.

“Someone has been a very bad pet,” he mocked, stepping closer until those glowing eyes were right above him. Tanjirou’s own eyes widened as he stared down at him. “It looks like someone will need to be punished again.” 

Tanjirou awoke with a start, just as he could feel the demon grab at his neck. He panted heavily as he leaned over his lap, desperately grabbing at his chest and neck as if the demon was still holding him. Thankfully, the illusory feeling faded as the last wisps of sleep faded from his mind.

‘It- it was only a dream…’ It had felt all too real, though. Not just the demon’s hand grabbing his neck, but the hug he gave his ‘father’ and the head pat he received in return. Was that all a figment of his sleeping mind? Or… or was that actually the spirit of his father, speaking to him in his dream to warn him and encourage him to hold on? Honestly, he wasn’t even sure which possibility he preferred. As much as he loved his father, and missed him dearly, the idea that he would think he was in enough danger now that he needed to try and reach him made his entire body tense. It just solidified to him that he was in for the fight of his life being here.

As his heart finally calmed, his mind switched its focus to the new thing bothering him: his unusually dry mouth. Was his mouth open while he was sleeping? Did he gasp or cry out with his nightmare, letting the cool air of the room sap away the moisture? If he didn’t have access to a clean water source, he would be more worried about it. As it was, he, supposedly, did. His head turned towards the gentle sound of running water on the other side of the room, and even though the lack of light prevented him from being able to see it clearly, he knew the uncovered source would be over there somewhere. A “gift” from his captor, since the demon rightfully knew he would die without it, and, apparently, that was something he wanted to avoid.

Tanjirou had half a stubborn mind to ignore the sandpaper feeling of his mouth; to deny the monster the ability to inflict prolonged pain on him by letting his body naturally perish before he could harm him. If he had less to lose, he probably would. But he did have something to lose, and that something was the only reason he held on to hope he could escape, or even be rescued: Nezuko. His dear little sister was still out there somewhere, probably worried out of her mind for him. Or at least, very confused by his absence. Besides for the times where she’s sleeping, this would be the longest they’ve been apart in a long while. Was she holding up okay without him? Would she listen to their friends once she noticed he was gone, or would she stubbornly try to look for him?

Would she even notice he was gone?

He quickly shook that thought out of his head. Sure, his little sister wasn’t always completely there, but she was still his little sister. Their familial bond has carried them through tough time after tough time, and he was sure that, while he hoped it wasn’t too much, she missed him just as much as he missed her.

What if-

Before the wayward thought could take hold in his mind, he rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself onto his hands and knees. While there wasn’t anything to trip on in here (not even a futon to sleep on. Thanks, Muzan…), Tanjirou didn’t want to risk walking face first into a wall in this pitch-black room. So he crawled his way toward where the trickling sound of water originated from, carefully reaching in front of him as that sound slowly grew louder and louder. Wetness dripped down on his hand, and with a sigh he scooted himself next to the opening in the wall and cupped his hands under the running stream, quickly raising it to his mouth when it felt full.

He chugged the water down before too much of it could spill, then repeated the action three more times before he finally felt his thirst quenched. The uncomfortable dryness in his mouth faded as the water did its job, rehydrating his chapped lips and bringing him relief. He relaxed then, allowing himself to fall backwards away from the water source. He stared up at the ceiling, trying to will his eyes to focus and see anything in the pitch black room, but gave up when nothing changed.

‘Is the lack of light a punishment?’ He wondered, tucking his arms under his head as he tried to relax. If he remembered correctly, there was still ‘candlelight’ (and that was an assumption, because he didn’t actually see the source of the light. He did try to find it to put it out so he could sleep, but resolved to sleep anyway after failing to find it) illuminating the room when he fell asleep earlier. Did someone extinguish the flames because he fell asleep? Or did the demon switch his torment from constant light to total darkness when he noticed the light wasn’t bothering him?

Not that this was worse for him. Tanjirou wasn’t afraid of the dark, and while it was inconvenient not being able to see where his source of water was, his other senses were honed enough that he could find it easily. Honestly, the only really annoying thing would be when he had to ‘relieve’ himself. The hole that sat below where the water fell from, where it would fall into, was not much larger than his fist from what he remembered.

At first, he didn’t even realize that was what the hole was for. With how small the hole was and its placement under the water stream, he initially assumed its purpose was to let the mysteriously sourced water escape without making a mess of the room. It was only after a couple drinks from the source that he started to think about alternative purposes for the hole. However, he wasn’t willing to taint his only source of water in this trapped nightmare, so he triple and quadruple checked the walls of his prison for anything else that would serve as a passable latrine. When that left him empty handed, he reluctantly turned his attention back to the water source.

A hole in the ceiling, about the size of his head, let a stream of water fall straight through unimpeded, until it fell through the smaller hole below it in the floor. Tanjirou looked up at the source, then down at the hole at the bottom. He repeated the motion a couple times, before reaching at his sleeve and ripping a strand of his woman’s kimono off. He held it right above the small hole, before letting it fall into the dark below. He then waited, doing his best to ignore the growing discomfort in his body as he watched for the cloth to return. When he finally couldn’t wait anymore, he accepted that the cloth wouldn’t come back from the top and rushed to do what he needed to do.

Even with the light on he struggled to keep the floor around the area clean, so now with nothing but the sound of water to guide him, he feared the mess that would follow. He didn’t want to risk getting too close to the water either, because, as he learned last time, there was no way to turn it off, or divert its stream. It took a while for his hair to dry, and even longer for the kimono to no longer feel cool against his skin. Even now it felt damp, sucking the heat right out of his shoulders and neck. The fact that he couldn’t decide if it being set up this way was a design flaw or intentional bothered him more than it should.

With another sigh, Tanjirou moved to roll away from the source, stopping when his shoulder bumped against the other wall. ‘I might as well burn off some of this energy so I can sleep through this better,’ he thought as he shrugged off the sleeves of the kimono he was wearing.

Hunger lightly panged in his stomach as he started a set of pushups, but he pushed it to the far side of his mind as he focused on the burn of his workout. Sweat built up on his face and neck, and trails of the salty water started to streak through the make up that was left on his face, that didn’t get wiped away with the water earlier or his sleep. As he went further into his training, he slid the kimono further down his body, so that only his waist and below was covered with the fabric. Crunches followed the push ups, which were followed by in-place jogs and practice swings. The feel of the latter was weird without a blade, and he almost wanted to stop immediately, but he forced himself through. As he continued on, that hunger in his gut grew, biting into the muscles of his abdomen and making him slowly feel weaker and weaker.

Eventually, through sweat pouring down his face and pants leaving his mouth, he was forced to stop. He fell to his knees, and focused on calming his breathing and numbing the gnawing feeling in his gut. Just as he felt himself being successful, light flooded the room as the hidden candles all lit at once. Tanjirou bit back a hiss as a ‘bwing’ sound filled the room, followed by three ‘snaps’ in front of his face.

He blinked away the stars in his eyes, then glared at the demon in front of him, who was moving to straighten up. That damned amused smirk was cast down at him as the man moved his hand, holding a steaming bowl, in front of him. “What’s wrong, little slayer? Does the light bother your eyes?” He mocked, head tilting slightly, almost innocently.

“Less than it does yours, I bet!” Tanjirou shot back, glaring straight at the monster in front of him. He received a small chuckle in response, which only made his anger grow.

“Now, now, haven’t you heard that saying? ‘Don’t bite the hand that feeds you?’” He then tilted the bowl that he was holding, showing the steaming white rice to him on the floor. Involuntarily, his mouth started to drool as his stomach growled. Outloud, apparently, as the demon’s mocking smile only grew at the sound. “That’s right, you’ve been here for about a full day now, and I know you didn’t get a chance to eat before coming into my possession. Why, I bet you must be starving by this point.”

As if to accent his point and betray him further, his stomach rumbled once again. Tanjirou grit his teeth as he tried to ignore the feeling. He wasn’t sure how, but he knew the demon wasn’t feeding him out of the kindness of his heart, and wouldn’t make the experience easy for him. Knowing the evil creature, he probably expected him to embarrass or prostrate himself for the food…

An eyebrow lifted on the man’s face, and he watched him curiously, not unlike a cat watching a mouse run across the plain floor. “What’s wrong, my little pet? Don’t you want the food that your master has brought for you? All you need to do is thank me, your master, for the food, and it is all yours.” His tone was level, but the faint edge of malice and mocking had his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

“You… aren’t my master!” He practically growled back, gritting his teeth as his glare harshened towards the creature standing in front of him. Once again, the demon king feigned ignorance. His eyes widened in mock surprise, and he tilted his head questioningly as he watched him back.

“Are you saying you don’t want your food? You would rather go hungry than properly thank your master for caring for you?”

It took everything in him to not scream, or try to attack the other. Instead, he let his anger silently fester as he kept his glare on the other. “I would rather starve to death than give you more respect than you deserve,” he responded, with a finality that had his mind calming.

For the first time, there was a crack in the mask of the demon, as anger briefly overtook the man’s features, before quickly being pulled into something more neutral. “So be it,” he said, all too calmly, turning his hand so the bowl flipped and started to fall. “Starve then.”

Just as the food hit the floor, the demon left the room with the familiar sounding ‘bwing’. Tanjirou winced as he looked at the now wasted food on the ground.

‘Bastard,’ he internally grumbled as he shuffled forward. He picked up the simple wooden bowl, frowning at the spilled rice on the tatami floor. If his mother was here, she would’ve killed Muzan herself for wasting an entire bowl of rice like this. Or she would have made him pick up and eat every single grain off of the floor.

The imagery brought a small smile to his face, before his vision started to blur as tears pooled in his eyes. ‘I miss her,’ he thought as he wiped at his wet eyes. ‘I miss all of them.’

The very monster who took them all away from him was also the one who was keeping him here against his will. Muzan killed his mother, his younger siblings, and turned his dear Nezuko into a demon like him, and now he had his horrid sights turned on him. As Tanjirou wiped away more of his tears, as the feeling of hunger grew in his gut, he held onto that bit of warmth that came with the thought of his family. He gripped it tightly close to his chest, and promised to protect it with everything he had. And he promised to avenge them, no matter the cost.